Harry's Unexpected Lordship
by HolyDragoon
Summary: During his hearing, Harry decided to vote, stumbling upon his heritage. Harry/Susan, Last of the Pendragons challenge.
1. Harry's Wizengamot Surprise

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**This story is written as a response to the challenge proposed by Last of the Pendragons. Pairing is Harry/Susan.  
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><p><strong>Wizengamot Chamber 10, Ministry of Magic<br>**

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Harry Potter was a scared, yet bored young man.

It all started when some Dementors decided to make a small trip to Privet Drive, searching undoubtedly for some yummy souls to suck. 'And when we talk of yummy souls to a Dementor, the name Harry Potter is the first on the list. Bastards.'

Then, of course, he had to be charged for casting a spell. Never mind that he almost lost his soul and that two Dementors were running willy-nilly, he had cast a spell! Scandal! Ministry Bastards. 'Save for Madam Bones, of course.' he amended his musings, remembering that the stern witch seemed to have her mind set on clearing him of all charges. To add insult to injury, they had the nerve to ask for a full Wizengamot hearing and change the time of the hearing at the last possible moment! Thrice accursed bastards!

His thoughts and incessant cursing of incompetents and toads was broken by the powerful voice of Madam Bones. "Those in favour of clearing the witness of all charges?"

Harry grinned evilly at this. Here was a way to rile Fudge up, making fun of the Wizengamot. Controlling his mirth, he lifted his hand with everyone else.

Silence filled the room. Most of the occupants of the room turned to each other, whispering. Some shouted their displeasure. Madam Bones covered her mouth, hiding a smile caused by Harry's cheekiness.

And that's when something else hit her like a thunderclap. Collecting her monocle, she asked for order in the room. As soon as every member was once again seated and silent, Madam Bones finally turned to the green-eyes wizard. "This is a highly unusual time Lord Potter." she started, "What drove you to vote as a member of the Wizengamot?"

The wizard lifted an eyebrow. "W-what?" he replied, genuinely shocked. He never noticed Dumbledore's glasses hanging precariously on the tip of his nose.

Amelia Bones frowned. "Lord Potter, I assure you this is no time for jokes. Do you understand what you've started when you lifted your hand to vote?" her frown only got deeper after she saw the young wizard shaking his head in denial.

"That is irrelevant!" squeaked Fudge, "we are discussing the verdict of the charges upon Mr. Potter!"

"Lord Potter, your birthday is July 31st, am I correct?" asked Madam Bones, ignoring the blathering incompetent Minister. She saw something wrong here, and her Auror instincts were urging her to press on this line.

Harry nodded, still unsure of the reason why he was suddenly addressed as Lord Potter. "The charges mention that spells were cast on August 2nd, correct?" Harry nodded again at the question.

The head of the DMLE nodded. "Did you know that the heirs of Houses without a member of age can request their emancipation when they turn fifteen?"

"Irrelevant!" shouted Fudge again, decorum forgotten. "This matter does not affect the incident!"

Sighing, Amelia stated on an even tone. "Those in favour of clearing the witness of all charges?"

Most of the room lifted their hands. "And those in favour of conviction?"

Only a few raised their hands. Fudge seemed furious. "Very well, very well... cleared of all charges!"

Madam Bones nodded. "I request the Wizengamot to add a new item to this meeting: The reclamation of the Potter seat by Lord Potter. As Lord Potter was cleared of all charges, I suppose it would be beneficial for all of us to discuss this in the current session. Of course, the full Wizengamot does not need to be here, so anyone who has matters to attend is free to go. Those in favour?" The same people that voted for Harry's innocence stood once again. "And those against?"

This time, nobody moved. "Very well, we will now advance to the second point of the meeting. As I asked earlier, did you know, Lord Potter, that the heirs of Houses without a member of age can request their emancipation when they turn fifteen?"

"No Madam." Harry stated, narrowing his eyes in thought. "I am not in touch with my family's connections."

"You mean you didn't know?" blurted one of the witches on the nearest stands. "The Ministry has to send a notification on these cases!"

"He was charged! The notification is not sent on those cases!" stammered Fudge, quickly looking around, undoubtedly (at least on Harry's mind) looking for the nearest place to hide, the bloody rat.

"Irrelevant!" snapped a witch in the second level. "The Charter clearly states the notification must be sent fifteen days before the wizard's birthday!"

"Hem Hem," the witch to Fudge's right, so far silent, decided to interrupt. "We must take into account Mr. Potter's... allegations regarding past events."

"Madam Umbridge, you will refer Mr. Potter as 'Lord Potter' until the decision of this court." replied Amelia, drawing nods from the crowd.

Harry was tired of this shooting of accusations. "Veritaserum." he said clearly. "Do I have the right to ask to be interrogated while under the effects of Veritaserum on the events of the last Triwizard Cup?"

Half of the Wizengamot looked upon the young wizard with looks reminding him of approval. The other half merely observed him, still evaluating.

Umbridge smiled sickly. "Veritaserum can be negated by a sufficiently powerful wizard. As such, I do not believe that would help your statement."

"Madam Umbridge," interrupted Amelia, reigning her fury at Umbridge's attempts to discredit the young wizard "surely you don't mean that a fifteen-year old wizard can break through the strongest truth serum, do you? Besides, the DMLE never managed to properly investigate the occurrence."

Amelia's statement became a trump card. On the following vote regarding Harry's request, three-quarters of the court approved the motion to administer Veritaserum to Harry. Still, Fudge and Umbridge, along with a few others, stubbornly voted against the young wizard.

"Very well." the stern Auror nodded. "This court will recess for fifteen minutes. Those who have other matters to attend may leave freely. Lord Potter, I'd like to have a word with you."

As everybody else left the court, Harry could not help but wonder at how things changed in less than an hour. In the beginning of the session, Harry was being charged, and now he was about to seriously shake things up with the reclamation of his seat. However, there was another thing that annoyed him greatly.

And that annoying thing decided to open his mouth. "Harry, I understand that you want the truth to be known, but I must advise you against this approach. You are still too young and inexperienced to reclaim your seat."

Harry took a deep breath, reigning his annoyance. "Professor, we both know that the Ministry sees us as an annoyance. First, knowing the truth would be a good way to either throw Fudge out or to force his moves to take a better stance to fight Voldemort. Second, I do not find the simple fact _no one_ even bothered to tell me about my inheritances is funny or good for my future. The Ministry shouldn't be the only way to find out, Professor."

Albus Dumbledore knew when somebody was taking a shot at him, and Harry had the subtlety of a trebuchet. "Now Harry," he started, "surely you can understand that people might only want to spare the younger ones from the responsibilities..."

Harry shook his head. "Professor, if a child had the only way to solve a complicated problem that should be fixed as fast as possible, should one spare the child and end up with a snowballed problem?"

"I am not saying that you should ignore your responsibilities, but wouldn't it be better to wait a little more until you claim your seat? There are many details that require you to receive a proper education."

Now, Harry Potter wasn't a walking trap sniffer, but he could see what Dumbledore was getting at. 'You little... you want me away so you can control things better, or at least you want me to be your puppet here. I wonder what else you upheld from me, Headmaster.' he mused, finally realizing why the Headmaster of Hogwarts was so worried about the seat. However, further thoughts were not possible, as Amelia Bones approached the young wizard.

"Albus, could I speak privately with Lord Potter for a few moments?" she asked, leaving very clear that the elder wizard had no part in this conversation.

"Why, Amelia, I'm sure young Harry here could use some guidance..." Dumbledore started, only to be met by the witch's stern gaze.

"Why, Albus, you believe that I may misguide young Harry for personal gain? I assumed you thought higher from me."

Dumbledore chuckled fondly, his eyes twinkling. "I did not intend to offend you in any way, Amelia. I believe, then, that you'll help Harry with the basics, then?"

Madam Bones nodded. "Indeed. I figure it might be good to explain him the basic procedures, just so he isn't lost in the Wizengamot's protocol."

Dumbledore nodded, as he got to his feet. "Very well then, I shall assist the rest of the session on the visitor stands. Good luck Harry." he said cheerfully, as he turned to leave without making eye contact.

Amelia kept gazing at him until he left the room. Sighing deeply, she turned to the Boy-Who-Lived. "Now, Lord Potter, the interrogation will include a control question to know if the serum is working, It may be a bit personal, but it isn't nothing offensive. After the control question, the interrogation itself will begin. Do you understand the procedure so far?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I do." He couldn't help but pray that the question did not bring any spotlights over his treatment be the Dursleys.

The remaining time was spent by Amelia with a quick explanation of the seats in the Wizengamot and the monthly meetings. When all the members of the Wizengamot who wished to attend to the meeting were properly seated, an Auror approached Harry, giving him three drops of the colourless truth serum.

"We now resume this session of the Wizengamot with the inquiry on the events of the Triwizard Cup, as requested by Harry James Potter, heir to the House of Potter.

"Thank you Minister Fudge." Amelia replied, before turning her gaze to Harry. "What happened in the maze of the Triwizard Cup between you and Cedric Diggory?"

"We decided to take the Cup at the same time. The cup was a portkey, which took us to a cemetery somewhere. When we arrived there we grabbed our wands, but Cedric was killed before we could do something."

The head of the DMLE nodded, mentally recording this bit of information. "Who killed Cedric Diggory?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

The members of the Wizengamot started whispering, before being silenced by a gesture from Madam Bones. "Petter Pettigrew is dead. Explain."

"He is not dead, he merely faked his own death after betraying my parents to Voldemort, as he was the true Secret Keeper of my parents." the room flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. "He is an unregistered Animagus, a rat missing a finger."

Fudge snorted. "Yeah, and you're going to tell us next that you spent your childhood as a slave in a dark hole, am I right?"

Harry's answer was the most unexpected one. "Yes."

The chamber burst in outrage. Fudge had his mouth wide open in shock. Dumbledore covered his face with his hands, thinking about Harry's words."What is the meaning of this? This is outrageous! Who the hell do they think they are?" screeched a younger witch, her eyes speaking of painful punishments to the Dursleys. Luckily, Harry did not hear this question.

"Order in the court! Order, or I'll clear the room! Lord Potter's statement about his home life will be investigated by the DMLE at a later date." shouted Minister Fudge, trying to fight his shock at Harry's revelation. "Madam Bones, please continue the interrogation."

"Harry, you said that Peter Pettigrew is an unregistered Animagus, a rat missing a finger, correct?"

"Yes."

Amelia blanched, not missing the implications of Harry's statement. The biggest part of Pettigrew's body was a finger. "What happened next?"

Harry slowly explained the rest of the battle in the graveyard, drawing gasps from the crowd as he described the events that resulted in the rise of Lord Voldemort. Said gasps were even stronger as he described his duel and escape from the Dark Lord. Sadly, the questions made by Madam Bones never made him reveal the names of the Death Eaters he knew, much to the relief of Lucius Malfoy.

By the time the Veritaserum wore off, Fudge was already thinking about what he could do to salvage his career. 'Surely it would be better to offer full support to Lord Potter?' he thought, fiddling with his hands behind the counter of his seat. He never expected the boy to pull this trump card and reveal his version of the events to the world. What to do now? "I guess, Lord Potter, that this testimony lifts any doubts anyone could have regarding your character. I motion the court to vote on Lord Potter's reclamation of the seat."

Harry wasn't surprised by this turn of events coming from Fudge. Seeing how the man grabbed to his power like a castaway grabbing a piece of lumber, it made sense that he would move to support him.

"I second the motion," stated Augusta Longbottom.

"All in favour of Lord Potter reclaiming his seat?"

The majority of the court lifted their arms, stating clearly that a few stragglers would not affect the decision of the majority of the will. After the courtesy 'against' vote (where only Umbridge had the nerve to vote), Fudge confirmed Harry's reclamation of the family seat. "The Wizengamot recognizes Harry James Potter's claim to the title of Lord Potter and the family seat of this court. Lord Potter, the Wizengamot welcomes you."

.

**Amelia Bones Office, 15 minutes later.**

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"Well, how that we are here, let's make some points straight. Please sit, Lord Potter." Amelia said, noticing with interest his reluctance in sitting on the chair on the other side of her desk.

"Harry, now that you were deemed able to take your seat at the Wizengamot, you must take a crash course on proper Wizarding etiquette. This may sound boring, I know," she stated, noticing Harry's slight change of posture. "but you have to realize that most purebloods are easily... deluded by someone's posture."

In his mind, Harry understood what Madam Bones was getting at. Reclaiming his seat as a member of the Wizengamot implied that he would be watched at all times and evaluated. Of course, people would know only what they could see, meaning that Harry needed to be able to have a respectable public figure. "I understand," he said evenly, "but who would teach me?"

"While normally I'd indicate you a few elder families to teach you. However, I'd like you to talk to a someone, about everything that happened."

Harry made an uncomfortable face. "Madam... with all due respect, I don't feel like talking about it." He somehow felt she was trying to help, but he couldn't bear himself to describe once again all what happened, to hear their surprised gasps. 'They don't know a thing about it.' he thought bitterly, as his eyes roamed through her desk. To Harry, the dark wood desk seemed incredibly plain for a high-ranking Ministry employee. The inevitable scraps of parchment were there, along with a few quills and an inkwell. The only decoration seemed to be a wizarding portrait with several people waving at him. He could recognize a younger Amelia Bones there, along with some elder people that might be her parents. His analytical gaze softened at the visage. "I don't mean to be rude, but is that your family?"

The head of the DMLE looked sadly at the picture, a fact that was not missed by Harry. "Yeah. Most of them died in the First Wizarding War, when I was just a young Auror." she pointed to a couple with several kids around them. "That's my brother Edgar, his wife and his kids. They died with my parents a week after this photo was taken. You know my niece, Susan, right?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, picturing the features of the people on the photo. They all seemed familiar... "I talked to her a few times in Herbology, she seems to be quite nice." Then he realized something else. "Niece?"

Amelia nodded. "Her parents died in an accident a few months after..." she stopped as she saw Harry nodding.

"I understand. Sorry to ask about that." he replied. A comfortable silent fell upon the room for a few moments, each occupant in the room deep in thought. Amelia was on a trip down memory lane, seeing the laughs and the jokes on the day the photo was taken.

Harry, on the other hand, was gathering his thoughts on the conversation he just had with the stern witch. What seemed to be just concern turned out to be outright understanding of Harry's situation. She, too, had seen death in her career and in her family. At this time, Harry started to realize that her suggestion may be worth it after all.

"Madam," his lips curled into a reassuring smile, "I think I'll take your offer after all."

Amelia smiled. "That's good to know, Harry. Could we start next Tuesday afternoon, at The Leaky Cauldron? There are a few things you should go through on Gringotts, so that is the best place for us to meet. Also, I hope you have something formal to dress. IF you don't we'll have to make a stop at Madam Malkin's"

Harry nodded, thinking about his Yule Ball robes. "I think I have something that will do the trick. Thank you for your help Madam Bones." he said sincerely.

"Call me Amelia, please, and don't thank me. I'm happy to see a fine young man step up to let his voice be heard. Not to mention Susan speaks highly of you." she replied, grinning as she saw his blush. Oh, the joys of youth.

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><p><strong>So, here is the start. I decided to have Harry spill the beans here in order to make him a credible Lord Potter in the eyes of the other wizard. The Dursleys... let's say I like to make them suffer. :)<strong>

**About the pairing... Susan Bones. I like unusual pairings, and from the looks of things, there are a lot of people that like Harry/Susan as well. On the other hand, this allows me to ring into the field Amelia Bones, who, for the lack of a better term, seems to be a badass character that should not be crossed.**

**Hope to hear your thoughts about this.**

**See ya!**


	2. The Cliché Gringotts Trip

**Disclaimer: Still applies. Vade Retro, lawyers! I did not sell my soul to the devil!**

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><p><strong>Grimmauld Place, Number 12, Harry's Bedroom<strong>

**.**

"Hey Sirius, could you help me with these robes here?" Harry asked, much to the amusement of his dog... err godfather.

"Why Harry, trying to woo the head of the DMLE?" Sirius grinned, as he pulled his wand, "I never thought you had a thing for older women. Not that I'm complaining, though. Which colour?"

The green-eyed wizard shook his head his face showing a healthy blush at the insinuations . "Black. And it's nothing like that, I just think green would be too... Lockhart for this occasion."

The older wizard shook his head, snorting. "Yeah, I'd be ashamed to call you my godson if I saw you dressed like him. Brr." He waves his hand to perform the Colour Switching Charm. "There you go, one set of formal black robes. Guess you'll be leaving by floo?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I just hope I don't fall, as usual." he added with a frown.

Sirius replied with a barking laugh. "I hope I can see one of those soon!" he said, much to the consternation of his godson, who shook his head in embarrassment.

"I guess I'll be going now." Harry mumbled, hoping to evade a round of good-natured poking from his Godfather.

As soon as he left the room and entered the living room, he was smothered by the human sized pincer hugs from one Molly Weasley. He was fairly sure his lungs were threatening to go right into his neck, making her hugs a prime weapon to defeat Death Eaters, but he spared himself from vocalizing those thoughts. "Mrs. Weasley... too tight!"

The motherly redhead quickly released the raven-haired boy from her embrace. "Oh, I'm sorry Harry. It's just," she sniffed, "seeing you so handsome... can't help but feel proud about you."

The wizard smiled. "Thanks, it's good to know that."

"Oh, Harry, it's nothing. I may not agree with what you did, but it worked out for the best." she replied, with a tone of slight disapproval.

"Mrs. Weasley, I had no idea of what I started back there. Nobody told me I had a seat there. And that didn't bring me anything good." Harry replied sternly.

"Harry dear, you must understand..." the matriarch started, only to be interrupted by Harry's wave. "I know, Mrs. Weasley. Professor Dumbledore said the same thing, and we've talked about this already. I got into this, and I'm now seeing this to the end. Might be good for my life after Hogwarts, too."

A few steps behind Harry, Sirius hid a snicker at Harry's dismissal of the subject. 'Way to go, Harry!' he thought cheerfully.

Molly seemed to look strangely at Harry for a few seconds, before her smile returned "Don't be late for dinner then, Harry."

The green-eyed wizard nodded. "I won't, Mrs. Weasley. Where's Hermione and Ron?" he asked.

"They should be in the living room with Remus. Have a good day, Harry!" she said, before turning to the kitchen. Harry just shook his head as he moved to enter the living room.

**.**

**Meanwhile, at a certain St. Mungo's office...**

**.**

Anna Bridges was not a happy woman. Being in the Wizengamot session where Harry Potter reclaimed his seat and being the Healer that checked the extent of his injuries during his stay with his... relatives, she was fuming like she took a dozen Pepper-Up potions at once.

'How dare they,' she seethed. 'half of the wizarding population would give an arm and a leg just to house Harry Potter, and they just... grr!'

It was fortunate that she kept her thoughts to herself, else somebody might think there was a particularly wild animal on her office.

'Okay, let's keep to the Oath, no harm is to be done to them... no harm... no harm... ah, to hell with this.' she waved her arms in the air with frustration, before an idea came to her mind. Grabbing a quill and a piece of parchment, he scribbled a quick letter and sent it in her owl.

She might be unable to hurt them, but nobody said she couldn't... hurt themselves in certain... accidents. The Healer grinned. She was certainly going to enjoy this.

**.**

**Bones Manor, Living Room**

**.**

"You called, Auntie?" asked a young ginger-haired witch, holding a bag with a towel hanging from it as she entered the room.

Amelia raised an eyebrow. "Susan, what did I tell you about running indoors?" she asked sternly.

"You shouldn't run indoors, might scare someone and get a hex in the face." the young Hufflepuff quoted with an embarrassed face. "Sorry Auntie." she apologized.

The stern witch smiled. "It's okay dear. Just keep that in mind. Alastor could be here." she grinned as she noticed the terrified face in her niece's face. Scaring Alastor Moody was a sure-fire way of getting a _Bombarda_ to the face. "Now, Susie, I'm going to be away for the afternoon. If you need me, you know what to do, right?"

"Yes auntie," the teenage replied, showing the necklace with a bronze badger that she kept with her at all times. "press the badger to warn you, portkey away if it gets dangerous."

"Good." Amelia nodded. "Have fun with Hannah, see you later."

"Bye auntie" Susan replied as the older witch entered the Floo. Secretly, young Susan Bones wished she could go with her aunt, or even better, that she was the one to help Harry. Still, she couldn't help but know that would never come to be. 'After all, why would Harry notice a simple Hufflepuff, when half of the school would give everything just to be with the Boy-Who-Lived, even if he doesn't like the fame...'. Shaking her head, she composed herself, and resumed her task of preparing her bag to spend the afternoon with Hannah.

**.**

**Diagon Alley**

**.**

Amelia Bones had just arrived when Harry... uhhh... arrived with his feet off the ground at The Leaky Cauldron. The patrons of the bar, used to see wizards arriving that way all the time, did not notice the arrival of one of the most famous people in the wizarding world. Amelia Bones, however, looked up from her Butterbeer and shook her head at the sight of the teenager now wearing a set of dusty robes.

"I assume this happens all the time?" she asked the teenager, her lips curling into a smile.

Harry groaned. "Since the first time I used the floo, I'd swear green things do not like me." he said, trying to wipe the dust off his robes.

"Here, let me help" the head of the DMLE said, raising her wand. "_Scourgify_!"

The young wizard looked down, only to see his robes immaculately clean once again. "Thank you Madam Bones." he said sheepishly. In his mind, however, he was frowning. With all the efforts he made to cause a good impression on the stern witch, his landing from the floo did not help one bit.

"Don't mention it Harry, it happened a lot to me when I was younger." her smile lifted his spirits. Maybe there was hope for this meeting yet. "So, Gringotts will still take an hour or so to open again. Have a seat while we wait, okay?"

Harry, nodded, taking the seat in front of Amelia, Tom approached, with the best smile his toothless mouth could offer. "What will it be, Harry?" he asked. The green-eyed wizard smiled back to the friendly barkeeper. "A Butterbeer and the Daily Prophet please, Tom." he said.

"You seem to know Tom very well." the witch stated, receiving a nod from Harry as a reply. "He helped me a lot two years ago... I... uh... blew up my aunt with accidental magic." he muttered sheepishly. The head of the DMLE frowned. "Accidental Magic doesn't come out like that. She must have got you very angry." Harry didn't reply immediately, focusing himself instead into thanking Tom, who had returned with his request. "... she kept insulting my parents." he finally said, too low for anyone but Amelia to hear. Said witch frowned. "Real piece of work, they are."

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to it, but can't see the day where I can leave that place for good. Not that I could ever call it 'home'." he said, before returning to his newspaper reading. "Minister Fudge... smear campaign... all planned... waiting for the last session...releasing Sirius Black" he mumbled, his face contorting in anger. Taking a deep breath, the set the newspaper down. "Did you read the Daily Prophet today?"

"If you mean that article where Fudge seems like a mastermind, yes. Wanted to strangle the little idiot when I read it, but at least he's doing something useful now." she replied, not bothering to keep the rage from her voice.

"At least they respected Cedric's death." he muttered, fiddling with the Butterbeer bottle. "Figures they wouldn't want to touch that subject with a ten foot stick."

"Amos Diggory is a respected person in the Ministry. It would be political suicide for Fudge to throw accusations regarding Cedric's death."

"Well, there was a Muggle scientist that thought human stupidity was infinite..." Harry countered, much to the amusement of Amelia.

"'Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former.' Albert Einstein said it. Some people from the wizarding world also keep an eye on Muggle science, Harry." the witch said, grinning from the surprised look on the boy's face. "Well, it's time. Shall we?" she said, getting to her feet. Harry emptied the contents of his Butterbeer and quickly followed the older witch. It was time to... 'meet the family', sort of.

The alley, while still far from the movement that Harry was used to see, was pretty busy. He waved to Mr. Fortescue, currently sitting with some elderly witches, no doubt talking about the good old days. He still remembered his help with the History of Magic essay for his third year, and the fact that his sundaes were delicious only added points on Harry's book.

The rest of the trip was rather uneventful, save for the faces from the people walking around, who seemed to look somewhat differently at Harry, instead of the 'oh hey, it's the Boy-Who-Lived!' one he has grown to hate. Not that he was enjoying the current looks either.

The arrival at Gringotts was a relief for Harry. The bank was mostly empty, so he wouldn't have to deal with the stares coming from everybody. As usual, the goblins were too busy on their duties to notice the new arrivals. Shaking her head, Madam Bones waited patiently until the closest goblin stopped weighing what seemed to be a pair of diamonds, frowning as the scales seemed to be unbalanced. The goblin stored the diamonds and finally turned to the wizards to greet them. "Good afternoon, Madam Bones. May I know what brings you here?" he asked politely.

"Good morning. I am here with Harry James Potter to read the will of Lily and James Potter." Amelia replied.

"Madam Bones, we received information that the will was not meant to be open until Mr. Potter is of age." the goblin replied coolly. The head of the DMLE raised an eyebrow, obviously not amused.

"In the eventuality that only the hair of the House remains, the wills should be opened upon the eleventh birthday. Obviously, I will have to ask you about who requested the will to stay sealed against the law."

"Of course," the goblin grinned, "Albus Dumbledore asked Gringotts to keep the will sealed."

Amelia's long chain of swears and curses brought a blush to Harry's face and wide grins to all goblins in the room. If there was one wand-waver they could respect regarding curses, that one was Amelia Bones. After a full minute of curses, Amelia seemed to have calmed down enough. "Albus Dumbledore overstepped his authority. As such, the will reading should be made as soon as possible."

"You are in luck," the Goblin said, "we have a free room for the reading. Runefang!" the goblin turned to another one, clad in a silver chain mail. "Guide Madam Bones and Lord Potter to the room 27, please."

The goblin nodded stiffly before turning to both wizards. "Follow me, please." he asked, keeping a polite tone but reminding the wizards he demanded respect from them.

**.**

**Two hours later**

**.**

The pair of wizards left the room fuming. Dumbledore completely disregarded the will, placing them with the Dursleys that, while not forbidden from taking him, were listed only as a last resort.

Harry, on the other hand, had deeper concerns. 'Just what I needed, a piece of Snakeface in me. Bastard. And Dumbledore is another bastard! I'd bet he knew this all along!' he though furiously, rubbing his forehead. Luckily for him, the goblins offered him the possibility to perform a small ritual, destroying the piece of soul for a fee. Thus, both wizards entered the caves beneath the building, entering a room filled with runes and a series of concentric circles on the ground.

"Mr. Potter," the elder goblin who guided them to the room said, "I will now explain how this ritual works. The piece of soul you have in your scar is very small. I believe that the Dark Wizard who did this had made other horcruxes first, my personal guess being six others. Of course, you have a small advantage here. Your mother placed upon you a powerful blood magic that is deadly against the one who made the horcruxes, which means the piece of soul you have is greatly weakened. I believe that if we make a ritual to enhance the power of the blood magic, the horcrux will be obliterated. Of course, any special abilities that your blood magic does not deem dangerous will be imprinted into your soul. Think of it as spoils of war."

"And what do you need to perform the ritual?" asked Harry, eager to get rid of Snakeface's piece.

"Just a few drops of your blood, to tune the circle to your magic." the goblin replied. "I should warn you, though: the destruction of the horcrux itself will be very painful, although the pain will fade quickly."

Harry nodded resolutely. "I see, but I don't think I'll back down."

The goblin nodded appreciatively. "You are a brave one, Mr. Potter. Here, take this knife and cut yourself with it, so we can recover the blood."

Harry took the knife and checked it, noticing that it was pretty plain for a goblin item, although there were several runes inscribed on the blade that the wizard could not make heads or tails of. He couldn't help but wonder about all the wrong turns he made on his life. 'Too many times where I chose what was easy, it seems.' he mused, while puling the sleeve of his robe. Taking a deep breath, he made a cut in the arm and watched as the goblin used a crystal vial to take a few drops of his blood.

When about half of the vial was filled, the goblin nodded and waved his hand. Harry couldn't help but stare in amazement at his arm, whose wound had vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Now, Mr. Potter, please sit in the centre of the circle, and we'll begin the ritual."

The green-eyed wizard nodded, and did what was asked for. The goblin emptied the contents of the vial on the first circle, activating the inherent magic.

Harry felt the hairs on his neck rise from the sudden surge of magic. As he heard the goblin start chanting... something, he realized his scar started aching strongly, giving him a skull-splitting headache, like it knew what was going to happen to it. The chant kept on for a few moments, and Harry felt the pain getting stronger and stronger, until it suddenly vanished. Like there was nothing there to start with.

When the piece of soul faded from existence, the circle simply deactivated and the goblin stopped his chant. Harry couldn't help but think that the whole thing was so... anticlimactic.

The goblin grinned as he saw the face that Madam Bones was making. "Yes, the ritual was successful. If it failed, we'd all be drooling messes by now. Mr. Potter, I wish you well. I've only had the opportunity to destroy three of those foul pieces of magic so far, and I do not envy those who carry them like you did."

The young wizard nodded. "Thank you for everything, Master Goblin." he said, gratefulness clearly noticeable in his voice.

**.**

**Diagon Alley, ten minutes later**

**.**

"Harry, do you want to go somewhere else before we leave?" asked Amelia, casting a silent spell to see the time.

Harry adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowed in thought. There was something... an idea that was planted on his mind during this stay with his... relatives. "Healing." he muttered.

The witch raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, I didn't get that, Harry."

"Flourish & Blotts," Harry said, "I want to get some books on healing."

"Healing?" asked a surprised Amelia, "Well, that is a surprise."

"I realized something this Summer." he said, moving towards the shop. "Cedric's death... I could do nothing to stop the Killing Curse. That doesn't mean I'll let people die from other curses. Not when I'm around and can do something about it."

The elder witch was surprised with the vehemence of the teenager's speech, but decided to remind him of a very important face. "Despite my training as an Auror, I can't help but think you are doing the right thing. Don't forget one thing, though: there will be some that you will not be able to save, despite your best efforts."

Harry nodded, as he opened the shop's door. "I know."

Ten minutes later, the duo was leaving the shop to return to The Leaky Cauldron, Harry was carrying a decent pile of books regarding the Healing Arts, not to mention the two bags with Lightening Charms that hung from his forearms. Being a Lord had its upsides, and the fact that he could buy the entire (and rather small) section of Healing books was a definite 'up' on his mental list.

By the time they reached the pub, Amelia turned to face him. "Harry, could we meet again next Friday, to start your lessons?"

The wizard nodded, a task somewhat hard due to the size of the pile he was carrying. "I think so, not that I have much else to do, besides reading. Oh, and making sure homework is done."

"Very good. I'd be disappointed if Lord Potter skipped homework." Amelia stated, nodding approvingly.

"Oh yes. Fighting Dark Lords is okay, but missing homework is a no-no." Harry replied cheekily, before his face took a serious expression. "To be honest, I think it's about time to take things seriously."

"I'm glad you think like that. It is a sign of maturity. Well, shall we?" the witch asked, opening the door of the pub.

Harry attempted to bow, managing to be somewhat successful without dropping any books. "Ladies first, Madam." he replied, a good-natured grin on his face.

* * *

><p><strong>I went with the idea that seeing Cedric die made Harry become more serious regarding his life. Besides, Healer!Harry is not that common, and it can make for some interesting situations. :)<strong>

**Also, I'd like to give a thank you to magical fan18, who pointed me to an expression that could be replaced with something better. Kudos!  
><strong>

**Sayonara!**


	3. The Place He Calls Home

****Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter**. You know the drill.**

* * *

><p><strong>Grimmauld Place, Harry's Bedroom<strong>

**.**

"Come in!" Harry said upon hearing someone knocking. The bedroom door opened, revealing his bushy-haired friend. "Oh, hi Hermione. What's the matter?"

The girl stepped inside, noting with satisfaction that Harry was reading some kind of book she still couldn't make heads or tails of. "I'm going to the kitchen for a while to do the Charms assignment, so I figured you could use the help." she replied, raising at first eyebrow at his smile, only to be perplexed as he pulled a parchment with his Charms assignment already done. "Sorry, been there, did that. I wouldn't oppose if you could give it a review, though."

Hermione closed her eyes and shook his head, trying to shake the cobwebs that seemed to have formed. She could swear he had already done his Charms essay. When she opened her eyes again, she was proven that she wasn't insane. A part of her was incredulous. Another part was jumping around in delight at seeing Harry finally taking the initiative. As she stated reading his essay, her opinion of the average student that had a knack for the practical was heavily reviewed. By the end of the essay, she couldn't help but wonder where was this Harry for the last few years. "Who are you and what have you done with Harry? Apart from a few parts that were a bit hard to understand, this is very good!" she asked, her eyes shining.

Harry nodded absent-mindedly, turning yet another page of the book he was reading. "I'm Harry and I just decided to take things seriously." he then made a ball of parchment and threw it in the direction of the door, hitting a smiling Sirius. "I was not talking about you!" he said, only then acknowledging the presence of his godfather. "Hi there Sirius."

"Hi Harry. What are you doing? You were entrenched on this room for the past few days, pup."

The young wizard smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, I was doing homework and then started reading this books, so..."

"Doing homework? You wound me, pup. Tell me you only did a few assignments." Harry's smile turned into a devious grin. "I did all of them already." A thud marked Hermione's reaction to that piece of news. "A-all of them?" she stuttered from her new place on the floor.

"Yeah... I really wanted to get them out of the way to start these books and prepare myself for next Friday with Madam Bones. Get your mind out of the gutter, Padfoot, I'm talking about my lessons."

"But Harry, she's a looker all right." the perverted godfather quipped, only to be met by a mischievous glint on Harry's eyes. "You're a free man now, why don't you go after her, then?"

To his credit, Sirius did not lose his composure at Harry's clever comeback. "Good idea pup. I kinda forgot about that." he retorted cheekily.

Harry shook his arms in the air in mock despair. "Nooo! What have I done? Now Madam Bones will have to suffer the advances of a perverted Marauder!"

By this time, Hermione had already got to her feet and was now studying the pile of books resting on Harry's chair. "Healing?" she muttered to herself, but saying it loudly enough for the other to hear.

The green-eyed wizard sighed. "Yes. I though a lot about everything that happened last year. I decided to learn more about Healing, so I can help people who get hurt by curses."

The bookworm bit her lip, obviously worried about the path that conversation was about to take. "Harry..."

The young wizard seemed to ignore her, as he rubbed his chin. "There's another thing that worries me, though. Sirius, is any information about the family Houses available to the public?"

Sirius seemed to be in deep thought for a few seconds, before giving an answer to the wizard. "Yeah, I guess so, there must be some books somewhere, to ensure the Houses are not forgotten. Why do you ask?"

Harry did not answer right away. "Hermione, is there anything related to Houses in the Hogwarts library?" Said girl raised an eyebrow, having a slight idea of the reasons behind that question. "There are some books there, yes, but I didn't read them yet, and I don't recall seeing anything about the Potters. There are some things about the Blacks and the Longbottoms, from what I've read from the spines, and even something about Minor Houses, but never about the Potters..."

For Sirius, the knut had dropped at that moment. "Do you think someone hid those books so you didn't know about your heritage?"

Harry nodded gravely. "Yes, and I'm not happy about it." he said bitterly. "I have my suspicions, but I still have to know for sure who did it and why did they do it as well. Who knows what other families could have been hidden from the heirs. Some seats on the Wizengamot were indicated as vacant, but what if the heirs don't even know about them?"

"And you intend to let them know that?" asked Hermione, suddenly excited at the prospect of researching an entirely new subject.

The green-eyed wizard reclined on his chair, a finger rubbing his lips lightly. "Yes." he said at last. "That is the right thing to do... and could probably mean some good politician alliances while we're at it. I highly doubt that the Purebloods would refuse the chance to have more supporters."

"Who are you and what have you done with Harry?" asked Sirius, only to receive another ball of parchment to the face, courtesy of his grinning godson. "Behave yourself, don't forget you have a seat to take there as well."

The boy's godfather's grin faded. "I don't really look forward to it, Harry." he said darkly. It was obvious he did not want to have anything to do with the things that belonged to his family.

Predictably, Harry would not have any of that. "Look, I know you don't like it, but the fact is that the seat is yours by right, and you can use it to stand for your beliefs. Besides, think of the birds you may find there! I remember some three or four that looked quite decent... or is your heart already ensnared to a certain witch?"

Sirius winced slightly, but ended up letting out a barking laugh. "All right cub, you win. I'm leaving the politics to you, though."

"Just try to behave decently, then." Harry said, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. "It's hard, I know, but you don't want anyone hexing you in the court just because you went for every female on their family."

Hermione slapped Harry on the back of his head. Sirius just let out another barking laughter. Trust his godson to make him have fun.

**.**

**Privet Drive, Number 4**

**.**

Vernon Dursley was not having a good day.

It all started that morning, when he took his morning shower, and all he got was freezing cold water. Then, it came the terror of finding out there was no toilet paper while he was... relieving himself.

Then came the breakfast all the bacon seemed to vanish from the plates. Actually, scratch that. All the food vanished from the plates when they tried to eat it. He had to content himself with a mug of cold coffee from the previous day and a funny-looking apple.

Little did he knew what that little apple would do to him. On that day, Vernon Dursley became famous on the whole Grunnings... as the man who clogged the company building's pipes with his... solid wastes.

Petunia Dursley had it as bad as her husband. All her cooking that day ended up as a black lump of coal. Not only that, but every time she peeked over the fences, her head was hit by something, ranging from wooden poles to rose thorns. She could swear she saw a brick narrowly missing her once, and that's when she ran inside, totally freaked out.

Her humiliation was not complete, though. When she entered her house again, it seemed like someone with very muddy boots had checked all the rooms there. Multiple times. Petunia tried to clean the mess, the keyword being trying, as the footsteps seemed to refuse to disappear from her floor. Not only that, but the more she tried to clean, the higher the number of footsteps in that particular room. When Vernon arrived home, hoping that his bad luck had subsided, he found a sobbing Petunia, desperately trying to clean a thick layer of dried mud.

Dudley Dursley... kept tripping all day long, seemed to have his trousers glued to his skin every time he went to the bathroom, and ended his day being humiliated by 10-year old kid who decided to remove his contribution from the gene pool. As Dudley Dursley was lying on the ground, crying in pain, he idle wondered what had he done to deserve his cruel luck.

Somewhere else, in a world intangible to all but the dead, a man with a long beard grabbed a thick scroll of parchment, grinning. "Do you really want to know?" he ask, eliciting a roaring fit of laughter from everybody who watched the scene that unfolded in the material world.

And in a certain St. Mungo's office, a certain Healer smirked mischievously while reading a certain letter coming from a certain Marauder.

**.**

**Grimmauld Place, Kitchen**

**.**

"Moony, where have you been?" Asked Sirius, intrigued by his friend's absence all day long.

"Oh, here and there Padfoot. Had an... appointment." the werewolf replied with a secret smile. Vengeance sure was sweet.

Harry's eyebrows rose up to his forehead at the sight. He never saw Remus that... happy. His thoughts were verbalized by Sirius, though. "Moony, did you finally get some?"

Hermione spat her drink in astonishment, drenching the table with pumpkin juice. Remus shook his head, obviously used to the Animagus' antics. "No Sirius, I didn't 'get some'. I just did a good thing today."

"Moony, Moony... always the good Marauder." laughed the former convict, ignoring the smile in the werewolf's face. 'If only you knew, Sirius...' he laughed inwardly, thinking about the worst day of the Dursley's lives.

The next morning, Harry was already having his breakfast when a very sleepy Ron entered the kitchen.

"Morning Ron," he greeted, receiving a grumble and a wave in response, as the red-haired teenager dug into his food. Ron Weasley was not a morning person.

After a few minutes of eating/inhaling (depending on which teenager you were talking about), they were slowly joined by the other occupants of the house. Ginny and Hermione were first, giving Harry a strange feeling as he noticed that the redhead kept glancing at him. He felt like a bull in a slaughterhouse. Hermione, on the other hand, was trying to balance a book on a mug, obviously entranced with yet another textbook. Harry's mind drifted to his task today: check out Potter Manor. The wizard could not find words to describe his thoughts about the perspective of having a place to live. Not only that, but it was his own place! He wondered about the place. Was it big? Small? Cold? Hot? Lot's of space outside?

He was shook out of his reverie by Ron. "Hey mate, you all right? You kinda zoned out on us."

"Sorry Ron. I was just thinking and not paying attention to you."

The redhead snorted. "I was asking if you wanted to do the homework."

"Oh, Hermione didn't tell you? I'm already done with that." Harry said, surprising his friend.

"Mate... you did everything already?" Ron could not believe what he was hearing. Harry, solving his homework before Hermione?

"Yeah, with all this 'Lord Potter' stuff I needed to get my things done. Sorry, should have told you earlier."

Ron shrugged, a bit disappointed. "It's all right. But you can stay, right?"

The green-eyed wizard sighed. "Sorry Ron, no can do. I've got to check out on Potter Manor, and I'm the only one who can get through the wards. Hey, if the Manor is in a good state we could spend an afternoon there, what do you think? I hope there's something there for us to have fun with."

The youngest male Weasley nodded, a bit uncertain. "I guess it would be all right. When are you leaving?"

"Right now, I don't know details about it, so I'm not sure how long it will take to check it all out." he said, rising from his seat and going to the living room. "See you later!" he cried, taking a small necklace from his pocket.

Fortunately for him, there was no annoying Headmaster waiting for him to whine about the lack of safety. He couldn't help but feel his heart pounding in his chest at the anticipation of seeing his... home... the sound felt alien to his ears. Could this be, truly, the place where he belonged? Tapping the necklace with his wand, he felt the tell tale pull of portkey travelling and prepared to be surprised.

**.**

**Potter Manor**

**.**

Harry's landing was the usual one: eating the grass in the ground. Of course, that delayed his appreciation of the property before him for about ten seconds, the time he took to get to his feet once again and brush the leaves from his robes.

When he finally lifted his gaze to take a first look at his property, he was astonished. An iron gate surrounded by tall walls surrounded the terrains belonging to the Potter Manor. From hi position, Harry could see the main road in cobblestone, surrounded by bushes all the way to the main entrance. The grass was trimmed and the plants seemed to be visited by a gardener often.

A soft pop surprised the teenager, as he looked at the newcomer. An elder house elf, regal as one of his kind can look, dressed in a black tuxedo with the Potter Crest in his jacket looked at him with the deepest respect. "I welcome your return, Lord Potter."

The boy blinked. There was some things that did not sound right. "Thanks... uh..."

"The name is Elder, sir. Your parents hired me, a free house-elf, to take care of things. For long years I've waited for the Potter heir to return here, so I could help them and repay the kindness they've shown me."

The wizard could not help but feel wonder at the elf's speech and behaviour, totally different from any elf he has met so far. "Thank you, Elder. Could you please show me the Manor, then?"

The elf nodded gravely, walking towards the gates and opening them with a wave of his hands. "Welcome to Potter Manor, sir." he said, a smile gracing his features as the young man entered and was recognized by the Manor itself.

Half an hour later, Harry was finally entering the building itself, after Elder showed him the outside with the pool, the garden and, of course, the Quidditch Pitch. The building itself was like the outside: spotless. All things seemed to be in good condition, without a speck of dust inside. The young wizard felt like he had a dozen knots on his throat. "Elder, did- did you keep everything like this on your own?"

The house-elf nodded solemnly. "Yes sir. Since the Manor's wards went into lock-down, I've been the only one who worked here. The goblins came here yearly as well, just to check the wards, but they never set foot inside.

Harry felt tears coming to his face, deeply touched by the house-elf's loyalty to the family. He knew Dobby was loyal to him, worrying constantly about his welfare, but Elder isolated himself from the world since his parents died, waiting for him to come and managing the whole property on his own. "Thank you." he managed to stammer, drying the tears with his sleeve. He knew a 'thank you' was not enough, but the elf's face showed him he understood Harry's problems in expressing his gratitude. "It was my duty, sir." he said simply.

"You said you were a free elf. How did my parents pay you for your services?" the green-eyed teenager asked, his voice returning to the normal.

"Three Galleons and one day off per week. Of course, my days off were spent here, and I never really needed the payment. Is it not to your agreement, sir?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "If you agree with me, I think you can keep the current arrangement?"

The elf nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Okay," the young wizard smiled. "Let's see the inside, then."

Harry ended up spending most of the day talking with Elder and visiting the different rooms. They had an informal lunch by the pool, with Harry asking the elf about his parents. Elder seemed to brighten up at his question, telling him about multiple situations where, invariably, James and Sirius ended up in problems with Lily. After that lunch, and with Harry's stomach slightly sore from all the laughing, Elder showed him his office and the library, who was big enough to fill half of the second floor. Harry looked to the lines of books with a strange reference, feeling a tingle in the air like the one he felt at Ollivander's all those years ago. It was the feeling of ancient magic. He knew he had to return here one day to explore this feeling thoroughly.

He also stopped in the Owlery, a tower placed right in the middle of the Manor. Strangely enough, the resident mail birds were not owls, but rather the black underfed vultures commonly called Augureys. Turns out the bird colony managed to grow with the absence of the Potters, and now Harry, instead of the couple he had fifteen years ago, now had close to fifty of the birds. But that was not the creepiest thing, as the prize was taken by the way all birds stared at him, like they recognized him as their rightful owner. When he asked that to Elder, the house-elf simply stated this was their way of letting him know they were here to serve him.

At the end of the tour, Harry could easily state one common point in all the rooms: Freedom. Some houses, like Grimmauld Place, seemed to want to get smaller and smaller, closing you in a prison of dark tones. Potter Manor, on the other hand, used clear tones and beautiful paintings to make the house fell welcoming to everyone. The air itself seemed light and cheerful, like it intended to make everyone happy just for being there.

Harry loved that house. As he approached the fireplace and activated the floo for the first time in almost 15 years. He swore to himself this would be the place he would spend his Christmas vacations with everybody who wanted to come with him.

He was now sure that this was truly the place brought joy to his heart just by being there. The place he could dare to call 'home'.

* * *

><p><strong>And another chapter done! I originally thought of a sillier scene in the Owlery... or should it be Augulery?<br>**

**Also, related to my stories, I created a forum where you can ask me about backstory details that I may not mention in the stories.**

**The address is forum . fanfiction . net/ forum/ Ask_Away_Harry_Potter_version/ 99328/ (remove the spaces)**

**See ya!**


	4. Shields and Toilet Paper

**Hi everybody! Disclaimer Still applies!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Bones Manor, Amelia's Study<strong>

**.**

Harry Potter frowned for the umpteenth time that Friday, as he tried to accomplish his tutor's request. 'Clear my mind, she says... but how?' he mused to himself, only to chastise himself for thinking... and realizing he fell again in a cycle. Groaning, he shifted his gaze form the ground to the ceiling. Trying very hard to imitate Crabbe and Goyle...

'It's white.' He slapped his forehead. "Argh, I cant help but think of something. It seems like the only way I can avoid thinking about something is to be dead!"

Amelia, reclined on her chair, only gave him a mysterious grin. Harry narrowed his eyes. "That's the point, isn't it? There's no way to avoid thinking about something. Which means..."

"... that everyone who says Occlumency shields are build by thinking of nothing are spewing nonsense." finished Amelia. She noticed the boy's frown and decided to explain the reasons behind this conclusion. "You have to think about something to create your shield, although you don't have to be consciously think about it. That's why natural Occlumens exist. They have the innate ability of creating shields with their subconsciousness, something that other people need to train for a while to do."

The young Lord nodded slowly. "So, the trick is to focus my thoughts on one thing, meaning that any attempts to read my mind will only see that thing."

"Yes, that's it, at least to create a static shield, which is the basic form of protection. When you have that shield up you can start adding things to that thought to kick people out. You can also convey feelings which will be felt by the mind link. That's why the mind arts are so dangerous. The attacker can go through the shield and rip memories out, but if the defender holds... let's say the attacker will not find the experience amusing." the head of the DMLE said, a mischievous smirk on his face. "Now I want you to make a basic shield. You don't have to do anything fancy, you can leave that for your daily training."

The green eyed wizard nodded and closed his eyes, focusing his mind. He wondered about what to think about that could throw someone off. Slowly but surely, an idea came to his mind. He thought about his cupboard and how dark it was inside. That particular place did not bother him any more, but he couldn't help but shudder as he recalled the feeling he had on that place. "Okay, I think I got it." he finally said, opening his eyes once again.

"Okay. I'll try to enter your mind. I won't be looking around, I just want to have a feeling of your shields. Ready?" she asked, receiving a nod from Harry. "_Legilimens!_"

She felt the sudden pull of having her mind touching another one. When the feeling stopped, she found herself in a dark place. She immediately knew there was something wrong. Groping around, she found solid walls all around her.

That's when the feelings appeared. She felt the fear coming in waves, assaulting her, disrupting her usually cool logic. She felt like sitting down and curling herself in a ball. Where was she? How did Harry manage to create such a terrible, if effective, defence? It seemed like she was surrounded by Dementors, only without the memories part. She poked around, trying to find weak spots, but everything seemed to be rock solid. There was no way she could go forward. Trembling, she shakily retreated from Harry's mind, only to find out that her own body was shaking and covered in cold sweat. She dropped her wand on the table, and quickly opened one of her drawers, taking a bottle of Firewhiskey from it. She opened the bottle and took a swig directly from it, trying to purge the feelings she had while testing the boy's defences. Only after that she eyed the young wizard, who looked anguished.

"S-sorry about that Madam. I never thought it would become that..." he stammered his apology.

"Don't apologize, it was a very solid defence. I just have one question: how did you managed to create something like that on your first try?" the stern blonde asked, looking at the boy in the eyes.

"... my bed was in a cupboard until I was eleven. I thought about how dark it was when I created the shield. I never thought it would become the cupboard itself, though... " he managed to say, after a long moment of hesitation.

Amelia drew a sharp breath, outraged at Harry's statement. "Those buggering, mother..." she muttered, before shaking her head, trying to calm down. "I see. Traumatic situations make very strong shields, but that fact is not mentioned often, mostly because it is assumed people wouldn't want to revive it once again. If you want, you may try another thought."

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't bother me any more. I think visiting Potter Manor made me finally realize I'd never go back to that hole again."

The blonde nodded slowly. "Okay then, you pretty much did two lessons in one go. I think we're done for today. You can try and add something to your shield when you're at home.

The green-eyed wizard nodded, relieved with the end of the lesson. They have been at this since the beginning of the afternoon, and he could already feel the beginnings of an headache due to this last lesson. "Never thought Occlumency could give me such an headache." he muttered, eliciting a snort from the witch. "It is literally a pain to learn, but its worth it. Everybody in the DMLE had to learn at least the basics, to keep their minds safe. Of course, the whole 'memory sorting' process also helps your thinking process, helping you see some connections you never noticed before."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Had?"

The woman sighed. "Fudge believed it was unnecessary for us to do our jobs, so he planned on cutting the budget. We couldn't let that happen, and in the end we managed to at least assure that the upper ranks receive some training. I'm afraid the quality has decreased a lot, though. Fudge fudged things up."

Harry snorted at the last comment. "I'm not that surprised, especially after seeing my... attempted Fudgement." he said, referring to his audience, and getting a chuckle from his tutor, who shook her head in amusement.

"All right then Harry, care to keep me company for a cup of tea?"

**.**

**Grimmauld Place, Library**

**.**

Sirius Black was not a happy camper. He was currently staring at three thick books with the latest issues to be addressed by the Wizengamot, and he knew they would take a long time to read.

Of course, he could just ignore them, but he'd get hexed by Harry. And his godson had his mother's temper. The animagus shivered at the thought of seeing a pissed off Harry Potter after him. Better start reading them.

He had just opened the first book (containing, unsurprisingly, yet another proposal for a standardized cauldron thickness classification system), when Lupin entered the room.

"Sirius, reading. I must be seeing things." he joked as he found his long time friend with a book opened.

The dogfather snorted. "Don't get your hopes up, I just opened the book."

Remus shook his head fondly. "Figures. I wonder what drove you to open it at all." he said, sitting on the chair next to his friend.

"I think we both know why I bother with this waste of perfectly good paper." Lord Black said, raising his eyebrows at ten page long introduction of the proposal. An introduction that had little to do with cauldrons.

"Yes, Harry is quite serious about the Wizengamot, isn't he?" the former DADA teacher asked, distractedly leafing through a small notebook with stories from their Marauder days. "Wow, you really found our old marauding logs."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, Harry became a mini-you since he went Lord Potter. I'm not complaining, though. He seems to be way chipper since he reclaimed his seat."

"That he does Sirius, that he does... I wonder sometimes if he isn't the one that will turn wizarding Britain upside down." the werewolf smiled.

"Oh, he intends to do just that. Still, if he turns it upside down things would look way better than they do right now. He's already ranting around about the Ministry budget cuts that have been going around the the past few years."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "I suppose Fudge will not like it very much."

The animagus laughed. "He won't, but with Harry's influence since that hearing, he has no choice but to hear him out, unless he wishes to be sacked faster than you can say 'Merlin'. It's surprising how he can show he has a working brain from time to time. Which brings me to another thing. I'll have a meeting with the DMLE and Fudge next week. I have a basic idea of what they want, and I'd like to talk to you after that meeting."

The other Marauder nodded. "Okay then, but could you tell me what they want?"

Sirius grinned. "To give me a shot at the Death Bastards. Scrimgeour seems to be eager to see me back there. They didn't tell me much more."

Lupin merely nodded, acknowledging the Marauder's explanation. "I see. Maybe they want to get you back to the Aurors."

"That may be the case, but there's also the Wizengamot... I don't really know what they're planning. At least they are not hiding their heads in the sand any more."

The werewolf smiled sadly. "And all it took was a charge on underage magic and a poorly planned hearing."

Sirius let out a barking laugh. "And Harry saves the day again. It's turning out to be a trend, eh?"

"I wouldn't laugh at it, Sirius," his friend told him, frowning, "I fear people will always wait for him to come and solve all their problems."

"He's about to enter the Wizengamot now." the last male Black said "I suspect things will change soon."

"I sure hope so, Sirius. The last thing Harry needs is even more people after him."

"That depends on who's following him. I wouldn't mind it if the chasers were women."

The former teacher sighed. "Sirius, focus. You're thinking with the wrong head."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Argh... just read the proposal. And think about having old grannies stalking Harry."

Sirius blinked slowly, shuddering a moment later. "Merlin, you're right. Gah, having old hags after my godson. As if the Death Eaters and their crossdressing boss wasn't enough. Brr."

This time, it was the werewolf's turn to shudder. "I really didn't need to picture that on my mind. Excuse me, I think I'm going to get drenched in firewhiskey to purge that out of my mind."

The dogfather nodded. "Get me a bottle as well, I'm going to need it to make it through this stuff."

**.**

**Bones Manor, Living Room**

**.**

"So, how are your healing studies going?" asked Amelia, as she carefully stirred her tea. She was frankly curious with the vocation of the young Lord. For someone who dared to keep a Dark Lord at bay, brother wand effect or not, choosing the path of healing was an... unusual choice.

"Fine so far. I didn't look too deep into healing spells, apart from the really simple ones. I'm mostly looking around the basics, like creating a small healing kit, how to make the job easier with summoning charms." the boy took a sip from his tea, before resuming his answer. "It's amazing how a well-organized place can help a healer so much. No wonder Madam Pomfrey is so no-nonsense about her infirmary."

The head of the DMLE chuckled. "She was always like that. I still remember seeing her hexing a teacher out of the infirmary for talking too loud."

Harry winced, much to the amusement of the witch. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Oh, I almost forgot. I have here some proposals for the Wizengamot. The discussion and voting won't start until November, but you should start reading them, they're quite... extensive."

Harry gazed at the three books Amelia summoned to the table. Glancing at the cover of the first one, he frowned, grabbing it. "Cauldron Thickness System? They're _still_ discussing cauldron thickness?" he muttered, glancing through the pages with a frown. "This is..."

"Pardon me the vernacular, but I believe the best expression would be 'a crock of shit'." completed the blonde witch with a grin, much to the agreement of the wizard.

"I couldn't describe it better. I swear they just wrote something random every nine pages out of ten, and that's before I started reading it. Don't tell me this is the one who will go through approval process first, please..."

The witch smirked. "I could tell you that, but I'd be lying..." her smirk widened with the boy's groan. "Why me..." he whined. "They can't even handle a simple cauldron thickness control..."

"Face it Harry. There are two types of ministry workers: those who know what they're doing and the others."

"Let me guess, most of them go into the latter." seeing Amelia's nod, he pinched his nose. "Why? Why do I always get the short stick?"

"Maybe it's compensating for something." the older witch quipped.

Harry groaned again. "My wand is not that long. The Firebolt may be seen as a big stick, though, but I though it went the other way."

"The other way?" the woman drawled, smirking mischievously.

"You know, the size of the broom compensates the size of..." he trailed off, blushing madly and trying very hard not to look at her in the eyes.

Of course, Fate, Magic, Merlin, or some other entity would have none of that. As Harry's gaze drifted to somewhere else, Susan Bones entered the room, having just arrived from another summer afternoon with her lifelong friend, Hannah Abbot. And inevitably, his green orbs had to lock on Susan's blue eyes.

Harry quickly turned his head away from the girl, blushing even harder, if that was possible. He never realized Susan was also blushing.

Amelia strategically covered her mouth with the tea cup, hiding her grin at Harry's reaction. Who would say that the godson of Sirius Black could be that easy to embarrass.

After a few more moments where Harry was staring at the ceiling, trying to control his mad blushing, he finally managed to stammer a "Hello Susan."

Her response was equally stammered. "Hi Harry."

"Oh, I remembered now I forgot to send something important. Susan, could you be a dear and stay here for a little bit with Harry?"

The ginger-haired Hufflepuff slowly turned her head towards her Aunt, not noticing the effort Amelia was making to keep a wide grin away from her face. "Okay Auntie."

The older woman quickly left the room, leaving two embarrassed teenagers desperately trying to keep their eyes away from each other, but sneaking a glance here and there. As Susan moved towards a chair next to the table, she couldn't help but notice the clothes Harry was wearing, a mix between a muggle suit and wizard robes, the latest trend in the wizarding world. She did think they give him a rather dignified air, like a prince charming form the fairy tales. His glasses framed his eyes quite nicely, drawing attention to his emerald orbs that seemed to take a steely shine since the events of the Triwizard Cup. Her heart clenched at the thought of the events of that fateful day, when Cedric became another victim of the madman. With all this thoughts, she tripped on the feet of the table, falling to the ground.

Her fall snapped Harry from his embarrassment, as he jumped to his feet and quickly approached her. "Are you all right?" he asked, helping her rise to her feet.

"I'm fine, I just missed that table on the way." she said, checking a small cut on her arm.

"Hang on, let me help you with that." Harry said, grabbing his wand from the wrist holster and pointing it at the wound. "_Episkey_!"

The Hufflepuff checked her arm, all traces of the cut gone, and smiled at the raven-haired boy. "Thanks."

The boy shook his head. "No problem." A few moments of awkward silence, he asked. "How's your Summer going?"

"I've been spending the afternoons at Hannah's. I've got all my homework done as well. How about you?" she seemed to notice her faux pas, as she winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."

Harry made a dismissive gesture. "It's all right. I've been talking with a healer Madam Bones recommended and things have been getting easier. It also helps the fact that I've been busy as a bee since I took my seat. With homework, healing and everything else I don't have a moment to feel sorry about myself." he took a deep breath. "It still hurts a bit when I go to sleep and think about it, yes, but..." another deep breath, like he was trying to relieve a weight from his shoulders that had been bothering him for too long. "... but I've come to terms with all that happened, and I'll slug one on Snakeface for him."

The girl nodded, giving him a sympathetic smile. "That's... good to know. I don't think I could be as brave as you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Brave?"

She bit her lip slightly. "... you know, facing You-Know-Who and bringing Cedric's body back."

The wizard shook his head. "Would a Hufflepuff leave him behind? If I died there instead of him, would he bring my body back?"

Susan shook her head. "No one gets left behind."

"Right." he smiled. "And even if he didn't ask me to bring his body back, I think I'd do it anyway."

The ginger-haired girl squeezed his hand, only then realizing they were holding hands since he healed her cut. Both teenagers blushed, letting go of each other's hands. "Sorry..." she muttered. He just smiled in response. And then they started laughing, realizing the awkwardness of the situation.

Looking at the pair through the partially open study door, Amelia Bones grinned.

She loved it when a plan came together.

* * *

><p><strong>And here it is! <strong>

**Have fun!**


	5. Knights of Lemuria

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from here.**

**Special message to anyone who want to ask if there will be lemons on this story (or in any of my stories):  
>I don't think I can write lemons, and thus I won't write lemons on my stories. M-rated stories might appear, but no lemons inside, apart from Dumbledore's lemon drops. The day after <em>might<em> be mentioned, though, but don't expect to see it on this story.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Ministry of Magic, Amelia's Office.<strong>

**.**

Harry eyed the occupants of the room carefully, studying their expressions. What was supposed to be a simple meeting between Sirius, Amelia and Fudge turned out to include him and several people who were trustworthy enough to keep this discussion a secret, reinforced by an oath. Fudge seemed nervous, his hands gripping tightly his bowler hat. Remus, on the other hand, seemed pretty curious about the whole thing, eyeing a smirking Sirius. Amelia, on the other hand, was doing the same as Harry, analysing the behaviour of the ministry employees that were sitting there. The boy and the Head of the DMLE traded a meaningful glance, before resuming their evaluation. Alastor Moody was there as well, his normal eye fixed on Harry and the magical one spinning around, always on the lookout for possible (and some imaginary) threats. The other seven Aurors and Hitwizards, however, were somewhat unknown to the green eyed wizard, however. Oh, he knew Shacklebolt and Tonks from the Order, yes, and regarding the others, he could at least tell who was who, based on pictures and insights on their personalities that Amelia had given him. Scrimgeour, Robards, Everton, Anders and Trent, seasoned veterans with experience from the last war. They were quietly waiting for the meeting to begin, probably wondering what Sirius, Remus and Harry were doing there.

"Well, I guess we can begin this meeting." said Fudge, trying to keep everyone on his field of vision. "I called Lord Black here because the return of Who-Know-Who and our need to have someone to keep him on the defensive. After hearing the advice of Madam Bones, and given that Lord Black was an Auror during the last war, I've decided to ask him to compose a special force to deal with the Lord... Thingy problem." he said, looking expectantly at Sirius, who kept smirking unnervingly for a few seconds, making the Minister even more nervous than he already was.

"Very well, I accept. But -" he warned, "if I'm leading the force, I want some assurances."

Fudge did not like the sound of it, but knew better than to complain. "Go ahead, Lord Black."

"Very well. I want to make very clear that we'll have operational autonomy, meaning we don't take orders from no-one, and I'll be able to pick the elements to the team. Of course, the people here, apart from Madam Bones, Head Auror Scrimgeour and Minister Fudge, can be a part of the team if they want to."

"What about Lord Potter?" asked Scrimgeour, eyeing the teenager curiously.

"Lord Potter has already faced You-Know-Who and is currently starting his studies to become a Healer. He won't be a problem to the team."

"You never heard me saying that, I just think he should have some more training."

"I'm handling that already." replied Moody, turning his gaze towards Rufus. "The lad's better than some Aurors that are walking around."

The Head Auror nodded in understanding. "All right then, it works for me." Heck, if the boy was training with Alastor, then he couldn't be too shabby. A shame he was planning to be a Healer.

"Very well," Fudge said, "I agree with your terms, with the condition you do not take any actions against the Ministry."

"What about any Death Eaters that might be inside the Ministry?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow and waiting for the Minister's reaction.

Fudge sputtered. "That is impossible!"

Harry snorted. "Voldemort," he said clearly, rolling his eyes at the collective shudder of almost everyone else, "during his... gloating after the ritual, managed to name a few of the Death Eaters who were there." he then seemed to think about something, "Malfoy was one of them. And I'll say the exact same thing if you give me Veritaserum." he added in his most casual tone.

Scrimgeour seemed like Christmas had come early. "And what about the other names?"

"Pettigrew, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Avery, Macnair... there were more, but he never said their names. He did say there were three missing, apart from the ones in Azkaban: One fled, probable Karkaroff, one abandoned him, probably Snape, who's spying on him, and one died."

"Evan Rosier. Took a piece of me to Hell with him. The older Rosier is dead as well." said Moody. Harry nodded. "I'm pretty sure that's all. Any ideas on who might the others be?

"The Carrows, Selwyn... they alleged Imperius on the First War, so..." Scrimgeour adjusted his glasses. "The point is, should we get them now?"

Sirius did not answer immediately. "I think we should plan things carefully, they're like rats. One scare and they'll flee everywhere. Also, there's the Azkaban problem."

"Dementors." Amelia said, rubbing her temples. "They joined him on the First War, they'll join him again. We don't control them, they're beasts."

"Not to mention the prisoners." Sirius said. "We need to get them... hmmm, far away from Azkaban. The ones still free... we need to study them, know their routines... and then get them in one swoop." he them seemed to notice something he forgot previously, "However, Pettigrew will be almost impossible to catch, the only way he can get someone is by catching them by surprise... or hitting gas lines. He won't leave the safety of their hideout. And getting the other guys will take some time."

Remus eyed his friend, noticing his sombre expression. "He'll get his due, don't worry about that. Time however, we don't have. We need to stop them."

"We don't have to stay put while planning their capture," Robards suggested, "if we know they're attacking, we can stop them... we'd have to know who to capture, though. Getting one of those who will join him now is okay, getting one of the big ones will scare them out of the Ministry."

Scrimgeour looked at the Auror approvingly. "That makes sense, but we don't know who's who because of those damn masks!" he complained.

Sirius scratched his chin. "There's nothing we can do about that. Even if we Obliviated them and invented a cock-and-bull story about them getting off unscathed, the results of an Obliviation can still be detected."

The green-eyed wizard sighed. "This is going to be one of those headaches."

"Not as big as the one I have for you now, pup." Sirius chucked at the face his godson made. "Our team needs a name."

"Oh dear. Of all things, you had to think about the name?" Harry complained, glaring at his godfather.

"The name of the group composed by the Dark Lord's first supporters was 'Knights of Walpurgis', a night celebrated by several civilizations. It was considered by the Catholic church to be a night to worship the Devil".

"We are their opponents, so..." Harry trailed off, remembering something from his childhood and the library. "Lemuria."

"What?" Remus asked, not understanding where the boy was getting at.

"The Romans had a day where they exorcised the evil spirits, the spectres of the dead, Lemures. That day was the festival of Lemuria."

"Knights of Lemuria?" Sirius asked. "I like it."

**.**

**Grimmauld Place, Number 12, Library**

**.**

A few hours after the meeting, Harry, Sirius and Remus were deeply concentrated in their reading.

Or at last, Remus was. Sirius and Harry had to wade through five hundred pages of what they considered cauldron-related bullshit, shooting snarky comments back and forth about some of the contents of the book.

"Hey Padfoot, page one hundred sixty nine: 'The cauldrons with designations A-1 to C-9 should have no less than three legs'. Yeah, right, because two-legged cauldrons might walk away."

"Yeah, right. You can't have a potioneer chasing his cauldron just because it doesn't want to have flobberworms dumped inside. Oh, page two hundred: 'Cauldrons with designation F-1 upwards must include a ladder'. Oh yes, because we're not dealing with giant cauldrons or anything! Idiots."

"Who wrote that piece of crap, anyway?" asked Remus, lifting his eyes from the book. He may be immersed on his reading, but not even his brain could ignore the degree of stupidity that Sirius just quoted.

Harry checked the book's cover, laughing loudly. "Guess what," he managed to say controlling his mirth after a while, "the guy's name is Americus Ziegelhead. Ziegel means brick in German."

Sirius snorted. "That's one unfortunate name... hold on a second... hey Remus, we know that guy! Remember that guy from Slytherin? The one that got his head stuck on a broom closet before we could prank him?"

"Oh yes," the werewolf replied, "I also remember there were two Ravenclaws inside at the moment."

The former prisoner blinked. "Really? I never heard about that."

"Their experience was traumatic enough for you to prank them, Padfoot."

"After seeing Americus' face, I'd never prank them. One trauma is bad enough." Sirius said, shuddering. "Can you imagine, kissing the girl, then getting a troll face coming through the door."

"Merlin, Padfoot," Harry shook his head, "stop trying to give me nightmares! This pile of toilet paper is bad enough."

"Sorry about that pup." the man replied apologetically. "It's a bit hard to stop talking about someone who rams heads on closets."

"And ends up in the Ministry." Harry said. "Will you start cracking jokes if he is there?"

Sirius shook his head. "The Ziegelheads don't have a seat in the Wizengamot."

"But he may be there," Harry insisted, "as he wrote this pile of crap we will discuss."

The Animagus blinked. "Bugger." he cursed, as he processed Harry's statement.

"Yes, bugger indeed. We'll have to discuss the work done by a cretin, don't make it any harder by laughing on his face, or we'll spend the whole session making a fool of ourselves because we won't be able to stop laughing."

"Harry's right, Padfoot. He has more common sense than you."

"Remus, which side are you on, the side of the mini-you or the side of your old Marauder friend?" Sirius replied, exasperated.

"On this situation? The side with the mini-me, of course. He can make you squirm really well."

"Traitor."

"Oh come on, you're the oldest one, surely you can hold your own against a teenager, right?"

Harry didn't say a word, enjoying as the two Marauders bickered with each other. With Sirius being thoroughly trounced by Remus' logic. Still, the teenager had to admit the dog Animagus had the funniest comments.

However, such fun was not going to last. Sirius suddenly narrowed his eyes, and stared at the door. "Dumbledore." he whispered, only loud enough for the other two wizards to listen. The three men looked at each other, trying to decided what to do, before nodding.

It was time to tell the old man off.

"Come in." Sirius said, and the door opened to allow the aged Headmaster to enter. "Sirius, Remus Harry." he old man said, sitting on one of the chairs. "I wanted to talk to you about your meeting this morning. I feel like I must advise you that going out like that..."

Sirius made a gesture to stop the elder wizard. "Hold on right there. We were perfectly safe, and you know that, unless you don't trust Amelia Bones."

"I do trust her," Dumbledore replied, "but Harry's safety-"

"About that, Professor," Harry interrupted this time, "I've been thinking since that audience, and it's high time I share some of my thoughts with you. And look at me in the eyes, please, I'm tired of seeing you evading me, and I suspect you know something about that."

"Harry, I'm afraid I can't share this information with anyone-"

"Horcruxes." the teenager spat, noting with grim satisfaction that the old mad looked at him in the eye, his face locked in a mask of surprise. Sirius and Remus, already briefed on the events from that afternoon at Gringotts, smirked in triumph. "Yes, I know about them. I used to have one stuck on my forehead. Did you know that?"

Dumbledore looked like all his years of life had fallen upon his shoulders on a split second. "I suspected that since this summer." he admitted, looking to his feet, feeling like a child being scolded by his father. To worsen the blow, the scolding was given by the one the tried to protect the most, at the price of having him live on the dark about his heritage. Then, he realized something else. "What do you mean, 'used to'?"

Harry shrugged. "The goblins removed it from me for a fee. The headaches are gone, and the nightmares only come every once in a while now. Let me guess, even with your suspicions, you never thought about looking around for ways to destroy Horcruxes."

"It's not like that. The information on Horcruxes is very hard to come by... I actually hoped to talk to Sirius abut that, to see if the Black Library had any information on it."

The green-eyed wizard stared at the elder for a moment, who did not flinch. "Very well, at least you didn't know about it. That's one less nail."

"One less nail?"

"Yes, one less nail on the coffin of my trust in you." Harry spat bitterly. "Think about it for a while, professor. You send me to the Dursleys, never checked on me, and did not see the signs every single time I reacted to the news of having to go back to that hellhole. Not only that, but I suddenly find out I have obligations related to the government of Wizarding Britain, obligations you've hidden from me."

"Harry, I only tried to keep you safe. Your mother's sacrifice grants your protection as long as you are with blood relatives."

"Safe? Yes, I see that, but at what cost? You never checked on me, to see if I was at least treated properly. Let me share with you a piece of insight from a Muggle called Benjamin Franklin: _'Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety'._ Do you see my point now? Do you remember what I told you on the hearing? We have a snowballed problem on our hands." he paused, licking his lips, letting his rage subside. "No, Professor Dumbledore, despite defeating Grindelwald, you still make mistakes. Hell, everyone makes them, everyone on this room has at least one thing on their pasts that given the chance to, they'd change it without hesitation."

The room fell into silence for a few moments, as the occupants looked with sorrow to their pasts. Sirius thought about his disastrous chase of Pettigrew. Remus chided himself for keeping his distance from everyone he knew after that fateful night. Harry's expression darkened, remembering Cedric's body on the ground, how powerless he was to stop it form happening. Dumbledore recalled his memories of Ariana, his sweet little sister, dead because he was a stubborn fool.

"Now, I want to get the truth from you Professor, not some cock-and-bull story. I understand now why you sent me to my relatives, but why did you hide me heritage from me?"

Albus Dumbledore faced the young wizard sadly. He bitterly reminded himself of the old saying, 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. Could it be that his attempt to protect Harry from the reality Albus himself faced in the past ended up being a mistake, and a mistake even worse that the one that cost Ariana her life?

It was then that Harry's meaning behind his words hit him truly: despite all his conquests, even if he conquered all the Hallows, he'd still be human. He'd still make mistakes. To think a teenager, a little younger than he was when he met Gellert, could see clearly something he always ignored was humbling. And that was the time where he decided Harry deserved nothing less than the truth.

"Harry... when I was a little older than you, I suddenly saw myself having to provide the income for my family. I don't want to dwell on the events that led to that right now, as it still hurts when I think of it. I still remember those hard times. I had dreams, but I had to throw them away to make sure my family was fed and clothed. I said it before, and I say it again: I just wanted to spare you from those responsibilities, at least until Voldemort was dealt with. I believed you'd have enough on your plate. It is clear to me that I underestimated you all these years. For that, I apologize."

The other three wizards looked at him with a mix of pity and understanding, as they noticed the twinkle on his eyes disappearing, and his shoulders slumping like a great weight had been placed on them. He seemed nothing like the slightly eccentric wizard that everybody saw as a leading figure. This was the true Albus Dumbledore, someone who still shouldered the guilt from the mistakes of his youth.

"I guess," Harry said softly, "that I have something to apologize as well, then. I thought you wanted to keep me under a tight leash back on the hearing." he admitted.

Much to his credit, Dumbledore simply nodded. "Given what you've told me, I understand why did you think the worst of me. There's nothing to apologize. I hope... I hope I can prove myself worthy of your trust once again."

"That will depend on your actions, sir." Harry said, smiling. "We need to stick together now, but for that we need to be honest with each other."

"Yes, we must. When the Hogwarts term starts, come to my office after the Feast. I want to show you something, and I hope to hear some of your insights about it. Now, I must be going... thank you for making me realize I was wrong all this time."

"When someone is wrong, we must make sure he sees the right path, no matter the age. You tired to do that with Fudge on the Hospital Wing after the Third Task. The difference is that you heard me now, but he didn't until I was questioned under Veritaserum."

"That's right," the elder smiled, "looking back, you made the best choice back then. I'll see you at Hogwarts, then. See you soon."

Harry nodded as the Headmaster left the room, closing the door carefully. The three remaining wizards looked at each other silently, processing this whole conversation.

"You know," Sirius said, "if I heard your conversation and didn't see his reactions, I'd say you got him off the hook way too easily. But seeing him... I guess you hit the nail right on the head."

"Let's hope so Sirius," Harry sighed, "I don't think we can afford to face Voldemort when his enemies can't stand each other." he seemed to think about something for a few moments, before opening the book once again. "Oh look, page one hundred eighty five, 'The cauldrons must have their upper side indicated by an yellow arrow'." Harry blinked for a moment. "A 'this side up ' sticker on a cauldron? You mean there's people that can't say the difference between the bottom and the top of a cauldron? You must be kidding me!"

**.**

**Hog's Head, Hogsmeade**

**.**

Aberforth Dumbledore looked at the newcomer that had just come through the floo. He had the nerve to come here? "What are you doing here, Albus?" he asked warily. He never forgot what happened. He couldn't forget.

"Aberforth... we need to talk. About everything." his brother replied.

The owner of the Hog's Head sighed. "All right, then."

This was going to be on of those days.

* * *

><p><strong>Now... this story started with a plan to bash Dumbles, but as I wrote this chapter I started to muse on his past, and eventually realised that Harry could have misread his intentions back in the hearing. That, and the fact that Dumbledore is bashed almost as often as the Weasleys. Maybe I'm a goody two-shoes, but oh well.<strong>

**A special thanks to WanderingAlbatros for helping me with that little piece of German over there. Turns out the site where I got the translation from did not translate the word fully, meaning I got a log instead of a block, like I intended.  
><strong>

**See you next chapter.**


	6. Opening Moves

**Disclaimer: As usual, you know the stuff already.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Gringotts, Potter Vault<strong>

**.**

"Sirius?"

"Yes pup?"

"What are you looking for that required us to come here?"

"I thought I told you about it already."

"I'd remember if you had told me. I just remember you muttering something about the Vault."

The man sighed. "Right, right, sorry. Too many things on my mind back then. All right. I'm looking for a pistol that your mum enchanted."

The younger wizard was flummoxed. "Come again? Mum enchanted a pistol?"

Sirius couldn't help but to let a barking laugh loose. "Who else? Lily had... what's the expression... 'mad skills' when it came to charms and enchantments. She helped me charm my bike, and among the many things that she enchanted, there were three handguns. She followed a Potter tradition, you know? Every member should have a weapon other than a wand at all times with him. Of those three pistols, one was for me, one for your father and last one for her. Dumbledore didn't like it, but we told him to stuff a sock in it. Saved our lives a few times, it did."

Harry blinked. "Wow, I didn't know that."

His godfather sighed. "I intend to fix that, Harry."

"You're already doing that." the green-eyed wizard replied with a smile.

"If you say so pup, then it is true. Anyway, your father's gun broke a few days before they went into hiding, and he never had a chance to replace it before that day came." he lowered his head sorrowfully. "Before I went after the rat, I left the two remaining guns at Gringotts, so it was easy to get mine. And you should learn to use your mother's gun as well. No discussions." he said sternly, eyeing his godson as the boy opened his mouth.

"I was going to ask if you had a place to train."

"Oh, sorry," the man nodded sheepishly, "but yes, I do know of a place... and Potter Manor has a range as well. I thought you saw it when you went there?"

"Hmm," Harry tilted his head, thinking, "I think Elder mentioned that, yes."

"There you go, a place for us to train. Ah here it is." he said, approaching a small rack and grabbing a holster, taking the weapon inside and handing it carefully to Harry. "Browning Hi-Power, 9mm Parabellum. Mine's one of these too, while your father used a Webley revolver. And this," he said, taking a small notebook from the same rack, "is your mother's enchantments book."

"Can... can we take it?" asked Harry hesitantly. "I'm fine with using mum's gun, but I'd like to make sure it doesn't..."

"I understand." Sirius replied softly. "You want to keep a memory safe. But, if you want to enchant your own pistol, you'd better take this." he said, taking a box from the same place where the book was. "This is a rune carving set. You'll need to practice a lot with it before working on the gun. Merlin knows how many times Lily said that to me when I was working on the bike. About the gun itself... don't worry, I know someone who can help us. I needed to talk to him regarding the magazines, anyway."

"Magazines?"

"Yup. With all the enchantments your mother places on the weapons, do you really think she would accept a simple 13-round clip? Nope, she talked to a friend of ours and well... they're bigger on the inside than they are on the outside. Like... five times bigger."

The younger wizard blinked. "That's... a lot of bullets."

"That is is," agreed Sirius, "but given that you may need to fire several times before you have them down..."

"I see. Well, I guess we're done here for the time being, right?"

"Yeah pup. Let's get back home."

**.**

**Leaky Cauldron, Private Room**

**.**

"Any reason for us to stay here looking at each other like idiots?" asked Harry, eyeing his dogfather after an entire afternoon of target practice. After they recovered their guns, they decided that returning directly to Grimmauld Place might not be the best idea, so they decided to test the firing range at Potter Manor, much to the delight of Elder, who provided them with a delicious meal. Harry had a pleasant surprise when he realized that getting the hang of it wouldn't be as hard as he thought it would be, as the enchantments helped a lot with the recoil and his mother's book mentioned there was a charm to avoid the 'biting' that inexperienced shooters could experience with that particular gun.

Hearing a knock on the door, Lord Black grinned. "Not any more pup. Come in!"

The door opened revealing a tall brunet, who eyed the former inmate with a wide grin. "Sirius! Good yo see you again mate!"

"Adrian! Glad you could come!" Sirius replied, hugging (manly, of course) the other man. "Adrian, this is Harry. Harry, meet Adrian Bowman, the friend I mentioned you."

"Harry? You're all grown up!" the man said with a smile. "Hair just like your father, the eyes of your mother."

Harry smiled, having heard that many times before, although there seemed to be no reverential tone on the voice of the man, something that was a very pleasant surprise. "Hello Mr. Bowman." he replied, shaking his hand.

"It's Adrian to you, Harry. Anyway, let's get to the good stuff. Sirius told me you wanted to follow the family's tradition?"

"Well," Harry replied, "yeah. I don't know which gun to pick, though."

"Don't worry about that," Adrian smiled taking a box from his pocket and enlarging it. "I've decided to give you a hand and pick some stuff to help you... and that includes the gun. "

Harry accepted the box and opened it slowly, checking the contents attentively. "Wow." he said, slowly taking out the gun. "This seems very nice."

"USP9. Same calibre as your mother's gun, so you shouldn't have that much of a problem on getting used to the recoil. Besides, it's a reliable gun. Just make sure you keep it clean, and it won't fail you. Speaking of which, you have a few books on firearm maintenance there, as well as a shoulder holster like the one Sirius has."

"Thanks..." Harry said, checking the books with a very interested look on his face.

"Don't mention it. James and Lily helped me back then, it's only fair I help you when you need it." the man replied, turning to Sirius. "Now, you need enchanted mags again, right?"

"Yeah, with all this, we'll need ammo for sure."

"All right then, don't worry about it. Give me three days and I'll get you a good supply of ammo."

Sirius grinned. "Excellent. Thanks for the help Adrian. Now, firewhiskey?"

"Why do you think I went for the business first? Let's sit back and relax for a while, I need a break from the shop as well!"

**.**

**Bones Manor, Dining Room**

**.**

"So Susan, how are your preparations for Hogwarts going? The train ride is only a few days from now." inquired Amelia, eyeing her niece.

"Everything's ready Auntie." Susan smiled. "You know I always have my stuff ready one week before the train."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't ask it nonetheless." the Head of the DMLE replied, smirking. "And tell me, what do you think of Harry?"

The redhead blushed. "He changed... in a good way, of course," she added quickly. "he used to look like he wanted to find the nearest hole to hide. Now that I think of it, he never talked much, even when people went against..." she trailed off, remembering that the 'Puffs went against him twice and were proven wrong both times, with the second time costing them Cedric.

She didn't take a side on the conflicts, observing from the sidelines, an habit gotten from watching Amelia analysing a problem. Harry did not fight back against the school, he shouldered the burden until time showed everybody he was not to blame. She still remembered what happened on the second year, when Hermione Granger was attacked and the Hufflepuffs realized, to their great shame, that they were accusing an innocent. An innocent that according to the rumours, stopped the Heir of Slytherin for good. They did not learn their lesson that time, it seemed, but she hoped they would learn it now. The price to pay for the third time would be much worse.

"Susan? What's the matter?" asked her aunt, concerned with the witch's expression.

"Just thinking about how everybody turns on Harry on a moment's notice." she said quietly.

Amelia sighed. She saw it this Summer, at least until Harry turned the tables on his audience and reclaimed his position by sheer luck. The fact that he didn't even know about his heritage was revolting. "It's the price of fame. Hopefully things should work better from now on."

"I hope so. He seems... I don't know how to explain it." Susan said, thinking. "It's like he's finally relaxing a bit, but at the same time he seems like he's getting sharper. We talked a bit about Cedric, and he said he has come to terms with what happened. I wonder why nobody helped him before?"

"It's a long story Susan, but I guess only Harry has the right to tell all the details. I can say that the 'road to hell is paved with good intentions', though."

The redhead stared for a few moments, before realizing what Amelia meant. "Oh." she simply said, frowning, before her gaze drifted back to the plate. "And nobody realized that until now." she said quietly.

"Plans tend to be like that, you know. They seem obvious after they're revealed, but that's because you already have the answers." the woman said soothingly. "And if he isolated himself as you say, then things become even harder."

"But Auntie, wouldn't the students closer to him notice that something was wrong?"

The blond thought about the question for a few seconds, before replying slowly. "That... that worries me a bit, but even if they noticed anything, there wasn't much that could be done. I'm sorry Susan, but we're entering again on Harry's story. If he ever tells you about it, you'll understand what I'm trying to say."

"It's okay, I understand. By the way, will he appear at the Wizengamot sessions during the school term?"

"Well, he decided to perform his duties as a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble House, so yes, he'll be there. The sessions are usually scheduled on Saturdays, anyway, so they won't interfere with his studies. I expect him to shake things up, maybe put Malfoy on his place."

"He could put both Malfoys on their places," quipped Susan, grinning at the thought of seeing Harry showing Malfoy what a member of a Most Ancient and Noble House was all about, "everybody would love it, including some Slytherins."

"I have no doubts about that. The elder one gets on my nerves, and the apple does not seem to fall far from the tree. Now, let's change subjects before I lose my appetite."

**.**

**Grimmauld Place, Number 12, Living Room**

**.**

"Hey mate, want to play chess for a bit?" asked Ron, sitting on the chair next to his.

"Sure, why not," Harry shrugged, "I've got enough reading about cauldrons today." Ever since he went to his hearing, he didn't have much time to talk with Ron and Hermione, with all the appointments and plans that came with his new responsibilities.

A few minutes later, and after the opening moves of the match, Ron decided to break the ice. "So, how's it going? You seem pretty busy lately."

Harry sighed. "Sorry for not being around, but between lessons, stuff for the Wizengamot and Sirius' plans... there's not much time available."

"Better you than me," replied his friend with a chuckle, "but seriously, from your comments, things aren't as easy as they seem."

The green-eyed wizard groaned. "You have no idea. I've read so many stupidities that sometimes I feel my brain is shrinking. Seriously, there are things that make me nuts!"

Ron nodded, understanding Harry's point. "Well, sometimes Dad arrived home very upset because there was a stupid detail that kept him from doing his job. Like that case of the... rokkit chickens?"

Harry stopped mid-move, holding the knight with the tips of his fingers. "Rokkit chickens?" he asked, his voice betraying his surprise.

"Yeah, Dad said they had flames coming out of their arse."

The green-eyed wizard couldn't help but laugh at that. "Of course, Rocket Chickens. I wonder the the guy who made them wanted to make roasts by squeezing the chicken?"

To his credit, the redhead made a nauseous face. "Mate, don't say that too many times, or I'll never look at a roast the same way again."

"Sorry Ron, but it's just way too funny. Imagine if the chicken had... too much thrust." Harry suggested.

The other wizard blinked, picturing the scenario Harry described, and suddenly bursting into laughs as well. "Oh Merlin, just don't mention that to the twins, or else they'll have a new product to test."

Of course, Ron was asking for it. The twins, who were entering the room, heard Harry's suggestion and walked towards the chess players.

"Hey, that's..."

"...a great idea..."

"Chicken Fireworks..."

"...they will leave you cackling!"

Ron and Harry just kept laughing, thinking about people cackling left and right. "Oh my," Harry said, wiping tears of mirth from the corner of his eyes, "you two are priceless. Speaking of which, how's the joke shop?"

"Magnificent! We're working on a few new things to sell at Hogwarts, and after we do our NEWTs..."

"... it will be time to show the world our genius."

"Easy there, George, your head's almost bursting." Ron admonished playfully, earning an amused look from the twin.

"It looks like Ickle Ronnikins wants to be one of the test subjects, my brother."

"Agreed, brother mine."

Ron looked at his brothers, terrified. "You wouldn't do that, would you?"

"Run, Ron, run!" advised Harry, grinning. "By the way, I'm volunteering to test one or two of your products. Just make sure they don't cause me lasting damage."

Fred and George looked at him with wide eyed, before starting a jig. "A volunteer! A volunteer!" they chanted, eliciting another fit of roaring laughter from Ron and Harry.

"All right, all right, you two settle down and let us finish this game, all right?"

"It shouldn't take much longer, Harry. In fact, I'll win in five moves."

Harry eyed the board. "How?" he asked idly, trying to see where Ron was seeing the key to victory.

"Just keep playing and you'll see." Ron replied, smirking.

And, truth be told, the game was over five moves later, with Harry being soundly trashed, something that he was pretty used to. After all... 'Hold on a second...' the wizard thought, a plan forming on his mind... "Hey Ron, have you ever thought about going pro?"

The redhead blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I've seen a few chess tournaments, and the prize is quite decent. There's one on the _Prophet_, too."

"Oh, I've seen that one on the _Prophet_ as well." Ron admitted, lowering his head. "But it's not like I can afford the entry fee."

"Sooo... you need a sponsor." Harry said, noticing that Ron would participate if he could afford the entry fee.

"What's that?"

"Well, it's like a deal. Your sponsor would pay your entry fee, and he would receive something for that, like publicity."

"It's like a trade then, right?"

"Yeah, that's it. So what do you say?"

Ron blinked. "What?"

"I'm asking you if you want me to be your sponsor."

"Mate, I can't accept-"

"Ron, just listen. You go in an see how you fare against the other players. If you do well, you can keep the prize money. I've checked a bit about some international tournaments, and they usually have parties where people can socialize. If you manage to make it that far, which I don't doubt you will, then we'll be able to make new contacts. I need them to see how things are out there, and you can meet more players and build a name for yourself. Of course, there are a few things we must work on, but what do you think?"

"I... what kind of things?"

"Well, etiquette, managing your emotions, you know, working on the first impression that people have of you. Of course, that will help you to make success among the witches, too." Harry could see that Ron was thinking about it, weighing his pride against the chance of making a name of himself.

After a few minutes where Ron fiddled around with the chess pieces, he nodded. "All right, count me in. What do we start?"

Harry grinned. "As soon as I can get some information and some people who know about this. But you have to promise me something, too."

Ron leaned forwards. "What?"

"You'll work harder on your studies. Knowing the right people might give you a good job, but you'd need the right skills to prove your worth, right?"

The youngest Weasley boy nodded. "Right then. The tournament begins in December, so I guess we'd better start working, eh?"

"That's the spirit!" Harry cheered. Throughout the summer, the green-eyed wizard thought about his interactions with Ron, and ended up realizing the redhead had problems with the fact that his older brothers had successful careers (or were starting their own businesses, like the twins). He eventually figured out that the best way to deal with his friend's insecurities would be by playing to his natural strengths. Ron was good at analysing things and creating strategies, but he needed to work harder to achieve his potential outside chess. Harry wanted to make Ron realize he was his own person, and he had his own qualities to make him shine, if he wanted to. The fact that he was helping him through chess was just the cherry on the top of the cake.

Little did he know that he was writing the first lines of a future legend among the fans of wizarding chess in the entire world.

* * *

><p><strong>And another chapter done. I know people won't like the fact I'm not bashing Ron, but I don't really feel the need to do it, so I decided to give him a chance at making a name for himself. This is a tertiary plotline at best, something that will be referred to every now and then and that is implied to go beyond the events of this fic.<strong>

**So... see you next chapter.**


	7. Of Memories and Nonsense

**I am here, all alive too!**

**Don't mind too much the last part of the chapter, it kinda... derails, but I had fun writing it.**

* * *

><p><strong>Grimmauld Place, Number Twelve<strong>

**.**

Hermione Granger was intrigued. She has not seen hide or hair of Harry since breakfast, and she had looked almost everywhere. Where did that boy go this time? She was fairly sure he said the previous day that he would stay at home, but she didn't find him anywhere yet.

"Sirius," she asked when she found the older wizard at the living room, "have you seen Harry?"

The dog Animagus raised his eyes from the book he was currently reading. "He's at the library, but leave him be." he said, explaining once he saw the unasked question on Hermione's face. "He's reading his family's Grimoire. Sit, this might take a while to explain."

The bushy-haired witch was not even completely seating before her curiosity got the better of her. "Family Grimoire?"

Sirius nodded. "It's a piece of tradition of the older wizarding families. A dying tradition, too, but the Potters always followed it. Well, James didn't, but when his father died he was already under the Fidelius, so he was unable to get it. Anyway, a family Grimoire was originally meant to provide the means to make sure the family spells were kept somewhere in a physical form, in case the head of family died with no-one else knowing those same spells. As time went by, it turned into a mix of spell register, a diary of the family's exploits and a means to remember the past. Part of the ritual of becoming a new head of family included sparing some time to read the grimoire, a way to understand what the family was done and what role was expected of the new head." he then sighed, remembering what happened to his family's own book. "The Blacks lost their Grimoire a few hundred years ago in a fit of idiocy, but enough information remained in private diaries to figure what used to be there. Nothing useful was lost, but if the same happened to the Potter one... it would be a great loss. I recall Lord Potter saying something about old magics tied to the family's magic. Again, I can't confirm that, as James never had the chance to read the Grimoire, but if those stories are as true as I think they are, then Harry would probably find them useful."

"You said it was a dying tradition. Does that mean all pureblood families used to have one of those in the past?"

"Not quite. Truly old families, like the Nine that were on the basis of the Wizengamot's original incarnation and that could trace their lineage to times before William the Conqueror, had their grimoire for sure, but due to conflicts or carelessness of the family heads, some of them got lost. Other pureblood families that came later had their own grimoires as well, but it was an object that was there for the ritual of a new head of house taking his own place, so they're lesser books, many times only containing a list of the heads of house and their date and their ruling years, along with a date and cause of death if they didn't step down from the spot before that."

"The Nine?" Hermione asked, "I don't remember Professor Binns saying anything about those."

"That's because Binns only cares about Goblin Rebellions." Sirius replied, shrugging. "Most of the wizarding world's history in only known by those of old families or that actually spend some time trying to fit the pieces together to see the bigger picture. History of Magic as taught by Binns is a joke. Sadly, no-one steps in and actually volunteers to become the new History teacher, as they're either blood purists who don't want to teach muggleborns or people who don't think they'd make good teachers. Did you really think Dumbledore kept Binns there because he likes him? Magical Britain as a whole is so blind to the past that finding a replacement for Binns is almost impossible."

"I..." the witch was visibly struggling between her instinct of defending a teacher or the reasoning in her mind that told her that Sirius was right. "... I guess I can see the problem."

"Yeah. If Moony didn't have his furry problem, he could actually be good replacement for History of Magic, if we gave him some time to prepare himself, but as things are, flowers and sunshine will rain in Azkaban before people from both sides get over their werewolf prejudice."

"Why don't you try to apply for the position-"

Her question was interrupted when Sirius started laughing, realizing what she was implying. Said laughter lasted... a good while, during which Sirius fell from the sofa to the ground, rolling around and attracting the attention of a curious Remus Lupin, who had just arrived.

Pointing to the laughing Animagus on the ground, Remus squinted towards Hermione on a non-verbal "What's up with him?"

"I might have suggested that he should apply to teach History of Magic." Hermione admitted with a faint blush.

"Hahahahahah! Did-oh Remus, you just missed the best joke ever! Me, a Teacher?" Sirius said, before succumbing to another round of laughter.

Said laughter was about to be interrupted, however. "Why not?" Remus said, grinning. "You are from an old family, could use the mental exercise, and would actually look good to have the reinstated lord Black doing something for the next generation of magical Britain."

"Nice joke Remus, but I'm the one that... serious?" the Black said, realizing they were setting him up with a valid strategy. "Damn it Moony, you're supposed to be on my side!" he whined.

"Well, you aren't a blood purist but are from an old family..." Hermione said, her own gears grinding on her brain, thinking of the possibilities of having a decent education on History, for a change. "Besides, you would be able to try to influence people towards our side of the cause. Even if the term starts in one week, you could spend some time preparing and come replace Binns later."

"You," the Animagus pointed to the witch, "are a scary, scary woman. How Harry doesn't run from you is a mystery."

"That's simple," Hermione replied smugly, "he's more of a Gryffindor than you are."

The werewolf laughed at her comeback. "Ooooooohhhhhhhhhhh. Sirius, she got you good."

"Oh shut up Moony." was the reply from a pouting Black, much to the amusement of the other two.

**.**

**Black Family Library**

**.**

Harry slowly turned another page on the grimoire. He had been at it for a few hours now, but the sheer volume of information inside, and the fact that he treated the book like it was made of thin glass meant he hadn't progressed too far on the family's history. Fortunately, there were a lot of drawings from time to time.

His treatment of the book wasn't really necessary. Thanks to preservation charms made by the family, the grimoire still looked brand new to the outside observer. In fact, the sturdy leather cover and the designs on the spine would lead many people to think it was merely a particularly thick volume of a deluxe encyclopedia.

Currently, Harry was reading a record of the times before Hogwarts was born, a time where wizards took apprentices as there was no school to send them to. Apparently, magic was an art initially transmitted in a master and apprentice system, usually within their own families or with magical children from non-magical parents. As such, each family had their own spells, which they mostly kept to themselves, in addition to the spells that came with the Roman occupation.

Harry had already read some of the spells they had. They sounded interesting, dealing mostly with stasis fields and the resistance of materials, but he had to check several Runes books to make heads or tails of the arrays drawn in the grimoire. However, the thing that impressed him the most so far weren't the spells he read so far, but a particular spell cast on the grimoire itself. He could read clearly what was written there, even when they were not written in modern English at all. Somehow, his ancestors had cast a spell on the book that allowed the reader to understand what was written there. Even if the written word made no sense at all, the meaning was clear as water in his mind.

"Interesting," he muttered, taking notes of yet another array, adding them to a growing collection of notes organised by subject, from old trivia to family spells. "but will they work along other runic sets?" rubbing the back of his head, he set that piece of parchment aside, adding it to the growing pile of stuff he should check later. "Speaking of which," he muttered, turning another page, "I need to speak to McGonagall once I get back to Hogwarts. With some many Runes, I need to drop Divination and learn something useful for a chance. I wonder if Trelawney foresaw this?"

His studies went on for some more time, until he decided that he should take a break from studying the past and get back to the present. Marking his current page with a spell, he closed the book and opened it again on the last pages, looking for the last record, and sadly realizing that it wouldn't be something written by his father, as he never took the Potter head title. "Here it is," he said sadly, lightly brushing his fingers over his grandfather's last record. Out of curiosity, he started reading it. _"...it has been a month since James, Lily and little Harry went into hiding. From what they told me, there's a prophecy involving Voldemort and my grandson might get caught in the middle. I tried to convince them to stay at Potter Manor while Lady Potter and I went to Godric's Hollow, we don't want our grandson to catch our dragon pox. Besides, I noticed that Elder seems sadder since they left. He tries to look normal, but I can see how he looks at James's room._

_I will be honest, I have a bad feeling regarding Godric's Hollow. It might be the advanced stage of my disease talking, but I feel in my bones that something bad will happen there. I just pray I am wrong and that it will be a long time until I see them on the other side._

_As for me and my wife... I'm afraid we won't live much longer. Writing this lines is taking its toll on me, even if I just moved from the bed to the desk. Still, I have no regrets. I lived a good life, with a loving wife and a son that makes me proud by standing for what's right. I just hope that he'll read those lines, or if the worse happens, that at least little Harry knew that he was loved by everyone here. Either way, remember: our ancestors may have done great things, but don't feel pressured to live up to their name. Follow what you believe in, and carve your name on the legacy of the Potters in the same way everyone before you did, by following the things they believed in."_

Underneath that record, there was just a single line: _'Maximillian Potter – died on August 17th, 1981'_. Harry mused that it was yet another of the enchantments of the book, as similar lines appeared every time the Potter changed. Sighing, the wizard rested his ring in the space below his grandfather's death notice, and a new line appeared: _'Harry James Potter – title reclaimed on August 12th, 1995. First record on August 25th, 1995'_

"All right, time to get to work." Dipping his pen on the inkwell, he wondered for a moment if he couldn't make something that was less... awkward to hold while writing. Oh well, another of those little things he could work on at Hogwarts. For now, he had a presentation to make.

"_I am Harry James Potter, son of James Potter, son of Maximillian Potter, the last recognized Lord Potter and the author of the last record before I took the mantle of the Head of the Potters. To the ones that will follow me, I will leave records such as this as a testimony of my times as Lord Potter, as my ancestors did and hopefully, like my descendants will do until our House is no more._

_I will not bother you with the sordid details that preceded my reclamation of the Potter Lordship. Suffice to say, it was an unhappy childhood until Hogwarts appeared. The path forwards will not be all roses either. We are at war with the very same Voldemort that grandfather mentioned. Thought dead since October 31's, 1981, when my parents were betrayed by Petter Pettigrew and killed, he returned this year, and Wizarding Britain gears once again for a time of terror._

_But this time, I intend to make sure that he will be destroyed once and for all. The first war took an heavy toll on the magical community. If the second war drags on for long enough, I don't know what might happen to our society. Maybe the prophecy that grandfather referred to really applies to me now. Either way, I'm not fighting this battle alone. Voldemort has his Death Eaters, who mostly bought their way out of jail, but there are also a few people on our side. Not many, maybe, but against an enemy like Voldemort, we don't intend to give him anything resembling a fair fight..."_

By lunchtime, Harry was still writing, completely oblivious of the time that had already gone since he sat down to study the grimoire.

Eventually, he was shaken from his writing when someone knocked on the library's door. "Harry, you still awake?" Sirius's voice was heard from the outside, "It's lunch time, or you'd rather keep spend the whole day there?"

Harry checked his watch noticing that yes, it was lunch time and he had spent the whole morning on this. How time flies sometimes. "I'll be out in a minute Sirius, just let me finish this..." he replied, finishing the sentence he was writing, as he was planning to stop for a while. Placing his notes inside a secure box, Harry raised his eyebrows once he noticed how much he had written with what was basically his observations for what would happen in the near future and the tale of his Hogwarts misadventures. "Wow," he breathed, "I never wrote anything as long as this before. I have no idea how I managed to do this, too." he admitted with a chuckle, as he closed the grimoire and gathered his things to leave.

Outside, a very amused Sirius was waiting for the green-eyed wizard. "Well, looks like you were really into reading today, eh?" he said once Harry left the library and walked towards the rooms to leave the things he was carrying.

"I don't know how to explain," said Harry, "I didn't feel the time passing, I just kept reading and taking notes. I mean, there's so much to read, I've barely scratched the surface of that book, but I've already found out so many things."

"Uh-huh." Sirius nodded, "I guess it's a good thing the Black grimoire was lost, with the family I had, I doubt I'd have the same pleasure reading it as you did."

"I don't know about that Sirius, it seems like the Blacks used to be good people... at least the ones around the 4th century or so."

The Black snorted. "Figures, the only ones that are really decent are in the rear end of history. Must have spent the whole decency reserves, if the family in the last four hundred years is any hint."

"I'm not going to touch that subject with a ten foot pole. Now, the books are on the trunk, so I guess that now we can go to lunch."

"About time, too," Sirius complained, "I'm starving."

"And I was the one inside the library," Harry replied, "you could have gone into the kitchen at any time. Or were you bothering Mrs. Weasley again with your chicken fixation?" he said, chuckling as he saw the older wizard's sheepish face.

"It was just a little leg... and a little breast, too." the Animagus replied innocently, although the suspiciously specific pieces of the chicken hinted Harry towards one of the Maraduer's risqué jokes.

"Sirius, you're my godfather, but if you pull the breast or leg joke on me I'll make sure you'll never be able to see a chicken the same way you used to for the rest of your life." he warned, his lips curling nonetheless at the whole situation.

"Is that a challenge?" Sirius asked eagerly, eyes shining at the perspective of a pranking Prongslet.

Harry smirked mysteriously, "I don't make challenges, I warn. Besides, the girls in the house would probably kill you if you were successful. Do you really want to see an angry Hermione? I don't think Malfoy's face has been the same ever since she punched him."

"Yeah, about that... you want to hear the last one from Hermione? She suggested that I should replace Binns on History of Magic."

Harry actually stopped at that, shook his head, and looked quizzically towards Sirius. "Come again? Did you mention you and teaching in the same sentence?"

"I'm not that bad!" the Marauder defended himself by pure reflex before noticing Harry's smirk. "Damn it, you people keep getting me on today."

"Maybe you're getting too old." the teenager quipped, before turning serious again. "Anyway, why did she make that suggestion?"

"Well, I did say that the only people truly interested in history are either purebloods or people who try to puzzle history together as a life work. Then Moony jumped on the bandwagon and said it would be good to my reputation as Lord Black if I showed that I cared for the new generation's education by becoming a Professor." he sighed theatrically. "Alas, surrounded from all sides. Only you, Harry, have not-"

"It's a good idea." the teen cut him off, enjoying the expression of disbelief on the Black's face.

"Et tu, Harry?"

Harry's laugh echoed through the whole house.

**.**

**Kitchen**

**.**

It turned out Harry and Sirius weren't the last ones to arrive to lunch. Right now, everybody was waiting on Tonks, who was finishing her shift and would stop by Number 12 to have lunch.

"So Harry," Ginny started, in a break during the conversation Harry was having with Sirius, "what were you doing at the library that took so long?"

To his credit, Harry did not reveal his displeasure with Ginny's rudeness. "Family business Ginny." he replied easily. After all, a Grimoire was family business.

"Family business?" she repeated, confused. "What do you mean with family business?"

"Ginny, Harry probably has unsolved issues that needed the family's head." Hermione chipped in, trying to prevent Ginny from unintentionally dig a hole in the ground.

The redhead tilted her head, before realizing where she was getting herself into. "Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

The green eyed wizard waved a hand. "I get it, don't worry. Yeah, there's a lot of stuff I have to catch up with and I really didn't have the time or the mind to check them until today. Also, Sirius decided to drop that bomb..."

Said wizard groaned. Hermione chuckled, while Ginny, not knowing of the latests Black shenanigans, was even more confused. "Could someone explain to me what is happening?"

As if two people dogging Sirius wasn't enough, Remus had to overhear the latest question and put in his two knuts. "Oh, we were just discussing the possibility of having Sirius teach History of Magic."

"Sirius what." Ginny blurted, not quite believing what she was hearing. "Sorry, you said Sirius being a teacher?"

"Yes." Hermione replied, grinning as she took the chance to rib the dog animagus a bit more. "Come one Sirius, don't be shy. After all, Professor Black sounds respectful."

"Sirius, respectful?" Harry joked, "Sure, pull the other one Hermione, it has bells on it."

Remus seemed to think for a few moments. "Hmmm... I guess Harry is right. Sirius is too laid back to be a good teacher."

The Black had enough. All these people nagging him, joking that he should teach and then saying he was unable to be a serious teacher. "You want to bet on that Moony?" he growled, eyeing the werewolf with a gimlet eye and his devil-may-care smirk on his face, "Let's see if good old Sirius can't be an even better teacher than Remus Lupin."

"You're on." Remus replied, satisfied that his friend bit it hook, line and sinker. "The loser will... spend the whole Christmas in one of those robes Dumbledore likes. And a Santa beard."

Sirius nodded. "Deal. You better start practising your hohoho-ing, Moony." he advised, "Sirius is going to get... Serious."

The reply he got? Heads hitting the table in frustration. "Seriously, Sirius?" asked Harry, just before he paused for a moment and slammed his head again on the table, "Confound it all, I'm starting to talk like you!"

"At least you aren't suplexing a train." Sirius replied without really thinking on it. He couldn't help but feel his words had some kind of hidden meaning, but as it was, nobody paid much attention to it.

Apart from the part where, you know, he mentioned suplexing a train?

"I'm pretty sure that suplexing a train isn't possible, Sirius." Hermione supplied helpfully, "Unless you're a dragon or something. Or Sabin."

Harry tilted his head. "Hermione, I think we're losing track of the conversation here. And who's Sabin?"

"Oh," she said very fast, looking away from Harry, "he's a character from... a story, yeah, a story." No way in hell she'd tell them she was a SNES fan.

And all that blocked the conversation quite nicely. Ginny looked around trying to find something to say. "Uh... anyone knows when Tonks is coming?"

"I'm right here!" a cheerful voice was heard entering the kitchen, followed by a yelp and a certain pink-haired Auror tripping over her feet.

"I'd advise for CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" said Mad-Eye, getting a few dirty looks for his yell, "but tripping like that can only mean you're the real Tonks."

"Mad-Eye, you are out of character." the girl replied, getting to her feet.

"Blame the author, he's getting stupid." was the reply.

Mrs. Weasley had decided by then that enough was enough. "AHEM! Tonks, can you sit? I'd like to serve lunch now. Warming charms only go so far." Since everyone was hungry, no exceptions, Tonks quickly took the place next to Sirius and everyone watched as Mrs. Weasley levitated the food to the table.

It was chicken. Sirius had a gleeful look in his eyes. Harry... well, Harry was starting to dread this lunch. Meanwhile, a certain bushy-haired witch was wondering what was up with Harry and his 'I'm doomed, Number Five' look.

Fortunately, things seemed to go well for most of the lunch. Sirius just ate instead of making jokes, Harry was getting more relaxed as it seemed that he wouldn't have to hear that awful joke, and even Ron was eating in a civilized way, although it was obvious that he was in deep concentration.

By the end of the meal, when the food was almost gone, both Harry and Tonks were up for seconds.

"So Harry," the Auror questioned, "breast or leg?"

It was a perfectly innocent question, she meant what she said, or at least it seemed so. Too bad the joke had been set. Sirius, who was sipping some water, did a spit-take that sprayed Harry pretty nicely, before turning towards Tonks with a shocked expression.

"What," she asked, "I just asked Harry if he wanted to take the breast or the leg." Once again, she looked perfectly innocent, but Sirius knew it all. She was trying to tease Harry.

The green-eyed wizard, however, had a good excuse not to fall for the bait. "Excuse me, I'll get cleaned up. Be right back."

And with her mouth now covered by her napkin, Tonks finally smiled. Oh, sweet fifteen, so easy to pick on the poor boys with a bit of innocent innuendo.

* * *

><p><strong>I told you it would derail a lot. Don't think too hard about it, it's a bit of senseless humour in what would be a very serious chapter.<strong>

**See you next time!**


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